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MARIE-ANTOINETTE. 



FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT & CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTING BY MME. VIGEE LEBRUN, 
IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. 



THE STORY OF 

MARIE-ANTOINETTE 



BY 



ANNA L BICKNELL 

AUTHOR OF "life IN THE TUILERIES UNDER THE 
SECOND empire" 




NEW YORK 

THE CENTURY CO 

1897 




LL^ n 






Copyright, 1897, 
By The Centuby Co. 



^\ The DeVinne Press. 



,„w<C 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I 

PAGE 

Character of Maria Theresa — Her political views — Birth of 
Marie- Antoinette — A bad omen — Marriages of the daugh- 
ters of Maria Theresa — The destiny of Marie -Antoiaette — 
Her education — Affianced at fourteen to the heir of the 
crown of Prance — Her mother's parting advice — An ac- 
credited spy — Her mother's aim — Picture of the Court of 
France — The King — Madame du Barry — The Dauphin— 
The daughters of the King — Adverse elements 1 

CHAPTER II 

The Archduchess arrives at the Pavilion of Exchange in an 
island on the Rhine — The etiquette observed — Arrival at 
Compi^gne, where she meets the King and the Dauphin — 
Arrival at Versailles — The marriage ceremony — The 
apartments of the Dauphine — The beauty of the young 
bride — The Abbe de Vermond — Hostility of the Due de 
la Vauguyon — Madame de Noailles — Worries over eti- 
quette — Daily life described in a letter to Maria Theresa 
— How pictures were painted by a queen — The neglected 

> education of Marie-Antoiaette — Incessant spying on her 
actions — A duke hstening at doors — Madame du Barry — 
Intrigues to influence the Dauphin 13 

CHAPTER III 

Objections to the Dauphine's wish to ride on horseback — 
Donkeys allowed, as " these animals are not at all danger- 



i CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ous" — What is to be done when a Dauphine of France 
fails from a donkey '? — The Dauphine yields to the temp- 
tation of riding a horse — A solemn ambassador — Threats 
of anger on the part of Maria Theresa — The Dauphine 
greatly frightened — Amiable nature of Marie- Antoinette 

— A Danphine of France loses her shoe in the mud — Pic- 
ture of the court of Louis XV ^ The Dauphine's position — 
Difficulties and court cabals — Disgrace of Choiseul — The 
Dauphine proudly refuses to propitiate Madame du Barry 

— The Dauphin and his brother fight in the presence of 
Marie-Antoinette — Marriages of the Comte de Provence 
and the Comte d'Artois — Letters of Maria Theresa — Ill- 
ness of the King — Particulars of his death — What eti- 
quette required of a gentleman in waiting 32 



CHAPTER IV 

The young King and Queen — Marie -Antoinette receives in 
state the great ladies of the land — Difficulties in obtaining 
due respect from the King's brothers and their wives ^ 
Too much kindness and indulgence — The Queen prepares 
private apartments as a refuge from too much splendor — • 
Her daily life — The beauty and grace of the Queen — Eti- 
quette and customs — Trianon and its improvements — The 
Queen's dairy — The Queen's extravagant fashions •jir' Tastes 
of the King — His love of hunting — Dangerous influence 
of the Comte d'Artois — Public criticism 62 



CHAPTER V 

The King's coronation — A painful crown — A royal brother 
— Blunders of an archduke — An imprudent correspon- 
dence — The Queen's likes and dislikes — Intimacy with 
the Princesse de Lamballe — The King's sledges — Danger 
in diamond bracelets — Reprimands and prophecies of 
Maria Theresa — Marriage of Madame Clotilde — The 
Queen described by Horace Walpole — Intimacy with the 
Priacesse de Guemenee 85 



CONTENTS vii 

CHAPTER VI 

PAGE 

Rivalries and court jealousies — Evenings in the apartments 
of the Princesse de Guemenee — A chilling visitor — Noisy, 
undignified society — Privileges of the milHner MUe. Bertin 

>^ — The Queen's extravagance — Her frivolity — An adop- 
tion — Journey to France of Joseph II — The Queen's sim- 
plicity and ingenuousness — Impressions made by Joseph 
II on the King and Queen — A head-dress '' too fragile to 
support a crown " — Impressions made on Joseph II by his 

' visit — Return of her " evil genius " — Reports in the Eng- 
lish newspapers — The Queen and Hume's " History of 
England." 102 



CHAPTER VII 

Fontainebleau in 1777 — The Queen's day at Fontaiuebleau — 
Constant association with the Comtesse de PoUgnac — 
Extravagance of Comte d'Artois — Hopes of an heir to the 
crown — P olitic al_di.fficultieSj— Interference of Marie-An- 
toinette in favor of Austria — Pressing letters from Maria 
Theresa — The Queen is more than ever called "the Aus- 
trian " — Madame Elisabeth's household — Household of the 
future heir — Birth of a daughter — Chimney-sweepers at 
the birth of a royal child — Witchcraft and a wedding-ring 
— Madame de Genlis 124 



CHAPTER VIII 

The Queen coldly received at the thanksgiving service — 
Fresh resolutions — The Opera masked balls — A Queen in 
a hackney-coach — False reports — The Queen has the 
measles — Unexpected sick-nurses — The Queen goes to 
Trianon for her convalescence — ^bpiition_of_etigu^Jte^ 
Trianon — Unfounded rumors concerning the Queen — An 
old coxcomb — Story of a heron plume — Causes of bitter 
enmity against the Queen — Perilous friendship — The 
theater of Trianon — A majestic soubrette — Madame de 
Lamballe — Death of Maria Theresa — Grief of the Queen. 138 



viii CONTENTS 

CHAPTER IX 

FAGE 

Birth of the Dauphin — Joy of the King and Queen — Bank- 
ruptcy of the Prince de Guemenee — Its consequences — 
Duchesse de Polignac appointed State Governess of the 
" Children of France " —Visit of the King of Sweden — An 
unexpected guest at a royal dinner- table — Visit of the 
Grand Duke Paul of Eussia and his consort — Etiquette 
concerning a bracelet — Death of the prime minister Mau- 
repas — Appo intment of Calonne _aad- its conseq uences — 
Combined economy and extravagance of Louis XVI — Pur- 
chTase of EambouiUet and St. Cloud — Montreuil and 
Madame Ehsabeth — " Pauvre Jacques " — Unpopularity 
of the Queen 152 



CHAPTER X 

A wonderful necklace — Generosity of Louis XVI refused by 
Marie-Antoinette — An imworthy prelate — An adven- 
turess connectecUwith the reigning family of France — A 
cardinal duped — A moonlight scene in the park of Ver- 
sailles — Gift of a rose — An extraordinary resemblance — 
Forged letters of the Queen — A prelate arrested in his 
pontifical robes — A^trialjconceriiing, the.-highest nobility 
of France — Indignation of the Queen at the verdict — 
What was the truth "? 162 



CHAPTER XI 

The last theatrical performance at Trianon — The Queen 
' now entirely devoted to her children — She perseveres un- 
fortunately in her Austrian policy — Her amiable disposi- 
tion — The old keeper at Trianon — Madame Vigee Lebrun, 
the artist — The beauty of the Queen — Anecdotes — Af- 
fectionate intercourse with Madame Elisabeth — Death of 
the little Princesse Sophie — Strange prophecy of Cazotte 
— Painting by Madame Lebrun — Alarming condition of 
tie Dauphin — Pohticaldifficulties and compUcations 184 



CONTENTS ix 

CHAPTER XII 

PAGE 

Convocation of the States-General — Eoyal pomp shown for 
the last time — The Queen subjected to insulting cries — 
Death of the Dauphin — Superstition and wax candles — 
The Bastille taken— Murder of the governor, de Launay, 
and of the provost FlesseUes — Scenes of "Sentiment" — 
Fhght of the Pohgnac family — Departure of several 
princes of the royal blood — Delusion of Lafayette — Ban- 
quet of the Guards at Versailles 198 



CHAPTEE XIII 

Insurrection in Paris — The populace force Lafayette to lead 
them to VersaUles — Advice of the Minister of the Interior, 
Comte de Saint-Priest — Mistaken refusal of the Queen to 
leave the King — His indecision — Mistaken views of 
Necker and Lafayette — Attack on the Queen's apartments 
— Devoted bravery of the Guards — The Queen forced to 
seek refuge in the King's apartments — Her intrepidity — 
The Eoyal Family taken forcibly to Paris — Arrival at the 
Tuileries — The little Dauphin — The Princesse de Lam- 
balle — Daily hfe of Marie- Antoinette 206 



CHAPTER XIV 

Attempt of the royahsts to carry off the King by force — 
The King will not consent — The two guards, Miomandre 
de Ste. -Marie and his companion, received and thanked by 
the Queen — Unfortunate shyness of the King — St. Cloud 

— Fears of poison for the Queen — Interview with Mirabeau 

— Plans for flight — Procrastination — Return of Fersen — 
What the Queen thought absolutely necessary for precipi- 
tate flight — Rumors in the public world 221 

CHAPTER XV 

FHght of the royal family — They are recognized on the road, 
and stopped at Varennes — Scenes in the house of the 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

mayor — Return to Paris — Barnave and Pethion — 
Madame Elisabeth, and Barnave — Thraldom ia Paris — 
Disappointment of the Queen — Return of the Princesse de 
Lamballe — Kindness of the Queen toward those whose 
mismanagement had caused the failure of the journey — 
Mercy ' 233 



CHAPTER XVI 

A new Assembly — A new constitution — Fears of poison — 
Death of Leopold II — Assassination of 'Grustavus III — The 
Uttle Dauphin — The Queen's comfort — Barnave sacrifices 
his life— "War with Austria declared — Unfortunate at- 
tempt of the King to destroy a libel against the Queen — 
The King refuses his consent to a decree sentencing to 
transportation the priests who had refused to take the 
schismatic oath — Insurrection of the populace — Insurrec- 
tion of the 20th of June — The populace burst into the 
Tuileries — Coolness and courage of the King — Heroic 
conduct of Madame EKsabeth — Dignity of the Queen — 
Napoleon and the " Canaille " — The Queen seeks the inter- 
vention of the European powers — The terrible 10th of 
August — The royal family take refuge in the National 
Assembly — Forfeiture of the crown decreed 246 

CHAPTER XYII 

The three days at Les Feuillants — The royal family removed 
to the Temple tower — Arrest of the Princesse de Lamballe, 
and of Madame and Mademoiselle de Tourzel — Madame 
Ehsabeth's gown — Privations and anxieties— Daily Hfe of 
the royal family— The Queen's dress — The King directs 
the studies of his son and the Queen those of her daughter 
— Gross insults and petty vexations 262 

CHAPTER XVIII 

Horrible death of the Princesse de Lamballe — Ferocity of 
the mob — Savage incident at the Temple tower — Effect 



CONTENTS xi 

PAGE 

on tlie Queen — The King removed to the large tower — 
Distress of the Queen — Eemoval of the whole royal 
family to the large tower — The King's trial announced 

— Separation from his family 272 

CHAPTER XIX 

The Eling's trial — Malesherbes a faithful friend — A sad 
Christmas — How the royal family corresponded with the 
King — The New Year — The King's sentence — His last 
requests — A reprieve of three days refused — Farewell in- 
terview with his family — The Abb6 Edgeworth de Firmont 281 

CHAPTER XX 

The King prepares for death — His kindness to the last — 
He hears mass and receives communion — The Abbe 
Edgeworth persuades him to give up the last interview 
with the Queen and royal family — He bids farewell to 
Clery — His last words to the porter of the prison — A fruit- 
less attempt to save him on his way to the scaffold — He 
prepares for his execution — His address to the people — 
His death 290 

CHAPTER XXI 

Grrief of the Queen — She remains in the closest seclusion 

— The Dauphin is taken away from the Queen — Her des- 
perate resistance — The Princesses left without attendance 

— They perform menial work and wait on the Queen — She 
is removed to the Conciergerie prison — Madame Eichard 

— Narrative of her servant, Eosalie Lamorhfere — Arrival 

of the Queen — Her cell— The child of Madame Eichard. . 297 



CHAPTER XXII 

Gentleness and patience of the Queen — Care of Eosahe — 
Enforced idleness — Her watch and diamond rings taken 
from her — A fatal flower — A pricked paper — Arrest of 



xii CONTENTS 

PAGE 

the jailer and his family — The Queen transferred to an- 
other cell — A new jailer — The Queen brought to trial — 
Attempt to obtain scandalous testimony from her own 
children — Her sentence unexpected by her — Her letter 
to Madame EUsabeth — Rosalie — Ministrations of a con- 
stitutional priest refused — '' Errors, but not crimes." 307 

CHAPTER XXIII 

The last insults — Dress of the Queen when going to the scaf- 
fold — The sentence read to her — The executioner ties her 
hands and cuts off her hair — The cart — The last progress 
through the streets — An American witness — The Tuiler- 
ies — Scene on the scaffold — The last look of Marie- An- 
toinette 320 

CHAPTER XXIV 

Sequel — The trial of Madame EHsabeth — Her fortitude at 
the scaffold — The cruelty practised on the Dauphin — His 
horrible isolation — The pity that was shown too late — 
His last words of his mother — Strength of character shown 
by the surviving princess, Madame Royale — Sent to Aus- 
tria in 1795 — Married to her cousin 326 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Maeie-Antoinette Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

Maria Theresa of Austria, Mother op Marie-An- 
toinette 8 

Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette at the Age of Fif- 
teen Years 16 

The Palace and Park op Versailles 24 

Marie-Adelaide-Clotilde-Xaviere de France 32 

Louis-Stanislas-Xavier de Bourbon, Comte de Pro- 
vence, afterward Louis XVIII 40 

Antoine-Paul- Jacques de Quelen de Stuer^ de Caus- 

SADE, Due DE LA VaUGUYON 48 

Marie-Louise-Thjer^jse-Victoire de France „ . „ 56 

Marie-Adelaide de France 64 

Salle des Glaces, Palace op Versailles 72 

The Temple op Love, Versailles 80 

The Dairy and Tower op Marlborough, Versailles . . 80 

Sophie-Philippine-Elisabeth- Justine de France . . 96 

Louise-Marie de France 112 

duchesse de polignac 128 



•nil 



xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING PAGE 

House of the Seigneur, Petit Trianon 144 

Arm AND Gastgn, Cardinal de Eohan 160 

comtesse de la mottb 168 

Diamond Necklace 176 

Bed op Marie- Antoinette 192 

Petit Trianon, Versailles 208 

Madame Elisabeth 224 

Chamber op Louis XIV 240 

The Dauphin Louis-Joseph and his Sister the Du- 
CHESSE D'Angouleme 256 

Marie-Therese-Louise de Savoie-Carignan, Princesse 
DE Lamballe 272 

Louis XVI 288 

Marie-Antoinette and her Children 304 

Marie-Antoinette 320 



THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 



THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 



CHAPTER I 

Character of Maria Theresa — Her political views — Birth of 
Marie-Antoiaette — A bad omen — Marriages of the daughters 
of Maria Theresa — The destiny of Marie- Antoinette — Her 
education — Affianced at fourteen to the heir of the crown of 
France — Her mother's parting advice — An accredited spy — 
Her mother's aim — Picture of the Court of France — The 
King — Madame du Barry — The Dauphin — The daughters 
of the King — Adverse elements. 



THE story of Marie- Antoinette is universally ad- 
mitted to be full of interest. All have heard 
more or less of her beauty, her brave spirit, her 
harrowing misfortunes, her tragic death. And this 
history, more enthralling than any romance, belongs 
almost to our own time: the fathers of men who 
may be still living saw her, and talked of her to 
their sons. This gives a peculiar, life-like reality to 
the sad tale, of which so many traces still remain in 
France. The beautiful portraits at Versailles, recall- 
ing the features of the young and lovely Queen ; the 
regal bedchamber from which she fled, where the 
populace rushed to shed the blood of the hated 



2 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

"Austrian," while her faithful guards laid down 
their lives to defend her ; the cell at the Conciergerie 
prison, from which, one October morning, the still 
brave, still dignified victim was led to the scaffold, 
to expiate, as she said herself, "errors, but not 
crimes ^^ — all these may yet be seen. 

The Eoyalist writers have drawn a glorified and 
saintly picture of the unhappy Queen ; those of the 
opposite party have striven to blacken her fame in 
order to explain, if not to justify, the judicial murder 
by which her life was sacrificed. But the real Marie- 
Antoinette has not yet been fully depicted. Recent 
publications of undoubted authenticity^ throw a new 
light on the true character of one who was neither 
a saint nor yet a sinner in any grave degree, but 
an amiable and lovable woman, frivolous in her 
prosperous days, engrossed in the pursuit of amuse- 
ment, thoughtless and imprudent in many of her ac- 
tions and words, but who, nevertheless, in the time 
of adversity showed that she had inherited the he- 
roic spirit of her mother, Maria Theresa. 

The history of the great Empress, and of her early 
struggles when, forsaken and desolate, with her 
child in her arms, she made her passionate appeal 
to "her" Hungarians, who proclaimed in response 
that they would die for their "King — Maria The- 
resa," is well known. She was a great sovereign, 
a woman of masculine mind; and although the 
mother of sixteen children, she remained essentially 

1 Taken from the State Papers at Vienna. 



BIRTH OF MAEEE-ANTOINETTE 3 

a politician — a statesman, if sucli an expression may- 
be used. Her husband, Francis of Lorraine, and 
after bis death her sons in succession, were nomi- 
nally Emperors of Germany ; but Maria Theresa, 
who possessed, as Queen in her own right, a large 
portion of the Empire, was the ruling spirit and the 
real sovereign. Her life was one long struggle with 
the surrounding powers, more especially Prussia, 
then governed by Frederick the Great, and resist- 
ance to his encroachments became the chief aim of 
her life. Her daughters were regarded principally 
as instruments for obtaining political alliances by 
their marriages in the reigning families, whose in- 
fluence might be brought forward as a counterpoise 
to that of her opponent. Thus, her daughter Caro- 
line was married to the King of Naples ; Spain was 
conciliated by the marriage of the Archduchess 
Amelia to the Duke of Parma ; ^ Maria Christina be- 
came the wife of Albert of Saxe-Teschen, governor 
of the Netherlands ; but the youngest and fairest of 
her daughters she had destined from her earliest 
years for the heir to the throne of France. To secure 
the French alliance she had already made many 
sacrifices, even that of her dignity as an empress 
and a Christian woman by stooping to conciliate 
the King's favorite, Madame de Pompadour. But her 
cherished dream was to unite her daughter Marie- 
Antoinette to the Dauphin, grandson of Louis XY 
and heir to the French crown. 

1 Parma then beloDged to the Spanish Bourbons. 



4: THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

Marie-Antoinette Joseplie Jeanne, of Hapsburg- 
Lorraine, Archduchess of Austria and future Queen 
of France, was born on November 2 (feast of All 
Souls), 1755 — the very day of the terrible catastro- 
phe at Lisbon when that city was nearly destroyed 
by an earthquake. 

The superstitious might see here an omen of the 
fate which awaited the innocent child in a social 
convulsion far more disastrous in its consequences 
than the calamity which marked the day of her birth ! 

The son of the first Dauphin of France in the reign 
of Louis XV, and future heir to the crown, was born 
a year before the daughter of Maria Theresa, who, 
from her earliest years, was carefully prepared for the 
destiny which her mother hoped to secure for her. 
She was taught the correct pronunciation of French 
by two actors of the Theatre Fran^ais, while the 
French Abbe de Vermond was appointed to direct 
her education, which, however, was unhappily very in- 
complete. The writers who glorify the maternal care 
and vigilance of Maria Theresa are contradicted by 
the most trustworthy witnesses ; the truth seeming to 
be that the great Empress, engrossed by her political 
cares, left her children far too completely to the dis- 
cretion of governesses and subordinates, who were 
neither very capable nor, perhaps, very conscientious. 
Drawings were shown to the Empress as the work of 
Marie- Antoinette which the latter afterward declared 
she had never touched, and this "make-believe" 
system seems to have been carried on throughout. 



APFIANCED AT FOURTEEN 5 

The Abb^ de Vermond directed only her French 
studies; but although a good and well-meaning man, 
the results which he obtained were far from credit- 
able to his efforts. He does not seem to have had 
the art either of interesting her in any serious pur- 
suit, or of acquiring proper control over her mind 
and character. Her handwriting even, as proved 
by autographs, was utterly unformed and childish 
at the time of her arrival at the court of France, 
and her spelling was defective. 

Through the manoeuvers of her imperial mother, 
and the influence of the Due de Choiseul, then 
Prime Minister of France, who favored the Aus- 
trian alliance, the marriage was settled at the ear- 
liest possible age of the Dauphin and of the Arch- 
duchess, the bride being only fourteen, and the 
bridegroom a year older. 

On the 21st of January, 1770, Marie- Antoinette re- 
ceived the wedding-ring sent by the Dauphin. The 
21st of January! On that very day, twenty-three 
years later, Louis XVI ascended the scaffold ! But 
who could then foresee what the future would bring 
forth? 

On April 16 the official demand was made to the 
widowed Empress, in the name of the " most Chris- 
tian King," by the Marquis de Durf ort. 

On the 17th the Archduchess solemnly renounced 
her rights in Austria. On the 19th a ceremony of 
marriage by proxy was performed (the Archduke 
Maximilian representing the Dauphin of France), and 



6 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

the official signatiires were then appended to the im- 
perial register of births, deaths, and man-iages. It is 
said that through one of those mysterious forebodings 
which are sometimes felt on solemn occasions, the 
hand of Maria Theresa trembled as she signed her 
name to the record sealing her daughter's fate. 

The young Princess was then required to spend 
three days in meditation and prayer, as a prepara- 
tion for her future state. On April 21, after re- 
ceiving holy communion, she was taken to pray 
before the tombs of her ancestors, where lay the 
father who had loved her with peculiar affection, 
and whom she had lost in her early childhood. 

Then came the final parting from her mother, 
the last meeting in this world, for in those days 
few people traveled, and sovereigns never left their 
states. 

In the case of Marie-Antoinette not only her 
mother and the imperial family deeply felt the 
pangs attending such a separation, but the house- 
hold and even the city of Vienna mourned the de- 
parture of the bright, amiable girl, whom aU loved. 
But it must be; and, amidst the tears of all who 
knew and loved her, Marie- Antoinette went forth 
to her unknown fate. 

Before the last heartrending embrace, Maria The- 
resa gave her daughter a plan and rule of life " to 
be read over every month." Part of this seems to 
be the "cut-and-dried" advice taken from a devo- 
tional book; but here and there, more particularly 



HER MOTHER'S PARTING ADVICE 7 

in a private supplement of instructions, the eager, 
earnest tones, evidently of tlie Empress herself, are 
in marked contrast with the rest. 

"Have no curiosity — this is a point on which I 
have great fears for you. Avoid all familiarity with 
yom' subordinates. Ask Monsieur and Madame de 
Noailles,^ and even insist, that they should tell you 
what you ought to do ; and request that they should 
warn you sincerely of anything to be corrected in 
your manner or your speech, or in any other re- 
spect. Do not be ashamed of asking advice, and do 
nothing out of your own head. At the beginning 
of every month I will despatch a special messenger 
to Paris ; meanwhile you can prepare your letters so 
as to send them immediately on the arrival of this 
messenger. Mercy ^ will have orders for his return. 
You can also write to me by post, but only on unim- 
portant matters such as every one may know. De- 
stroy my letters, which will enable me to write to 
you more openly; I will do the same as regards 
yours. Say nothing about domestic affairs here; 
there is nothing but what would be uninteresting 
and even wearisome. Speak of your family with 
truth and moderation.'' 

Elsewhere she says very sagely : " I should in no 
wise be desirous of your introducing any novelties 
or doing anything contrary to the custom of France ; 
you must pretend to nothing peculiar to yourself, 

1 They were appointed to conduct the Princess to Versailles. 
2 The Ambassador of the German Empire at the court of France. 



8 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

nor quote what is done here, nor try that such should 
be imitated." 

This judicious advice might be followed with ad- 
vantage by many young brides even in private life, 
but the state of the court of France at that time was 
such as to render the future position of the innocent 
but thoughtless and imperfectly educated young 
Princess one of peculiar difficulty and peril. 

The King was an aged libertine, entirely en- 
grossed by disgraceful pleasures, worn out physically 
and mentally by the excesses of his life, bearing the 
yoke of his favorite, the Comtesse du Barry, who 
reigned supreme, but who was in fact the tool of 
ambitious politicians by whom she had been pushed 
into her prominent position for the sole purpose of 
having a ready instrument at their service. 

The Comtesse du Barry was a woman of pre- 
viously disreputable character, and the lowest possi- 
ble social condition, with whom a ruined spendthrift, 
the Comte du Barry, had been induced by bribery to 
go through a form of marriage in order to give her 
sufficient rank for admittance at the court, where 
she at once became the reigning favorite of Louis 
XV. The first Dauphin, son of the King, had died 
several years before, to the gi'eat grief of the na- 
tion, for his conduct and principles were in strong 
contrast to those of his father. His wife, the Dau- 
phine, an exceedingly estimable woman strongly at- 
tached to her husband, did not long survive his loss. 
They left five children: three sons^ — the Due de 



> 

> 

H 

m 
m 



> 
O 

z 

H 
H 
m 




THE DAUGHTERS OF THE KING 9 

Berry, who after his father's death became Dau- 
phin and heir apparent to the throne of France 
(afterward king as Louis XVI), the Comte de Pro- 
vence, and the Comte d'Artois (later known respec- 
tively as Louis XVIII and Charles X); and two 
daughters — Madame ClotHde and Madame Elisa- 
beth. The title of "Madame'' used at the French 
court was attended with such complications that 
some explanation is necessary to make the following 
narrative intelligible. 

The son or grandson of the King, heir apparent 
to the throne, was called the "Dauphin," and his 
wife the "Dauphine"; this was the title of the 
ancient sovereigns of the province of Dauphine, an- 
nexed to the possessions of the French crown. The 
brother of the King was called "Monsieur," with- 
out any other appellation, and his wife "Madame." 
The younger brothers and sons of the King were 
also called "Monsieur," but with a title annexed, 
thus: "Monsieur" Comte de Provence, "Monsieur" 
Comte d'Artois ; their wives were " Madame " Com- 
tesse de Provence, "Madame" Comtesse d'Artois. 
The King's daughters and granddaughters in the 
direct line, the " Filles de France," or Daughters of 
France, as they were proudly entitled, were also 
called " Madame," but distinguished by their Chris- 
tian names. Thus, the unmarried daughters of 
Louis XV were called collectively "Mesdames de 
France," and individually Madame Adelaide, Ma- 
dame Victoire, Madame Sophie, Madame Louise. 



10 THE STORY OF MAEIE- ANTOINETTE 

The Queen, Marie Leckzinska, liad died some time 
before the marriage of the Dauphin, her grandson ; 
and since her death the position of "first lady 
in the land" had been held by Madame Adelaide, 
a clever woman of an imperious, domineering temper, 
who was by no means pleased to yield her preroga- 
tives, as she must needs do, to the child-wife of a 
boyish nephew. Madame Victoire, fat, sleepy, and 
good-natured, cared little for any thing beyond a 
good dinner and her other comforts, but was led 
and governed by her elder sister; Madame Sophie 
was singularly ill-favored, very shy, very disagree- 
able, and utterly insignificant; the youngest and 
most amiable of the four sisters, Madame Louise, 
had recently left the court for a Carmelite convent, 
with the intention of enduring the terrible austeri- 
ties of that order, according to the faith of the 
Catholic Church, as a victim of expiation to obtain 
the salvation of her father's soul, which seemed in 
considerable peril when his licentious life was con- 
sidered. This act of self-immolation deprived the 
young Marie-Antoinette of one who might have 
been her best friend at the court of Louis XV, for 
Madame Louise was thoroughly good and sincere. 
The other "Mesdames de France" were, in fact, esti- 
mable but narrow-minded and ill-educated spinsters, 
holding a small court of their own (wheels within 
wheels), greatly influenced by their attendants, in 
open war with their father's favorite, and strongly 
antagonistic to the party led by the Due de Choiseul, 



ADVEESE ELEMENTS 11 

who shocked their feelings by his so-called "philo- 
sophical" and really anti-religions views, as well as 
by the part which he had played in the expulsion of 
the Jesuits. They disliked Austria, and they dis- 
liked Choiseul ; consequently they were not disposed 
to give a very cordial welcome to an Austrian arch- 
duchess chosen by Choiseul as a bride for their 
nephew : the latter, a heavy, good-natured lad of fif- 
teen, well-meaning, but overpowered with shyness, 
and wholly undeveloped ; unformed in mind as well 
as in manners. 

Such was the court to which a thoughtless child 
was sent, where a woman of ripe years and culti- 
vated intellect would have required the greatest 
prudence and caution to steer her way among in- 
numerable difficulties. 

Maria Theresa, though not fully informed of the 
real state of the case, yet knew enough to have a 
strong desire to give suitable guidance to her daugh- 
ter. She consequently arranged with the German 
ambassador, Comte de Mercy-Argenteau, a secret 
correspondence by which she was to be informed of 
everything concerning the young Dauphine. Mercy 
kept a journal, which was regularly sent to the Em- 
press, in which the most minute details of the daily 
life of the Princess are jotted down; every act, every 
incautious word, is registered. Being in utter ig- 
norance of this agreement, Marie-Antoinette treated 
Mercy with full confidence, often expressing astonish- 
ment at the information possessed by the Empress 



12 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTODraiTTE 

concerning her, but never dreaming that Mercy, 
whom she entirely trusted, was in fact an accredited 
spy through whom everything was revealed. 

There is, it must be owned, something revolting 
in the part played by Mercy. True, the revelations 
were made only to her mother; but she was Em- 
press of Germany, and while Marie- Antoinette ought 
henceforward to have been devoted to the interests 
of France, the country over which her husband 
was to reign, the one idea of Maria Theresa was 
the prosperity and welfare of her own empire. She 
gave excellent advice to her daughter; she earnestly 
wished that she should acquire every virtue and 
every charm: but with the object of obtaining in- 
fluence to be used in the interest of Grermany. The 
position of Maria Theresa was, however, so tran- 
scendental, she was so revered by her subjects as 
an almost superhuman being, that obedience to the 
wishes of "Her Sacred Majesty" seemed a sufficient 
justification for what can scarcely be considered hon- 
.orable conduct. 

It would, however, have been well for poor Marie- 
Antoinette had she followed more closely the advice 
contained in the letters of her austere mother, whose 
dear judgment was not to be deceived, and whose 
eagle glance saw so distinctly the future consequences 
.of her daughter's youthful follies. 



CHAPTER II 

The Archduchess arrives at the Pavilion of Exchange in an 
island on the Rhine — The etiquette observed — Arrival at 
Compi^gne, where she meets the King and the Dauphin — 
Arrival at Versailles — The marriage ceremony — The apart- 
ments of the Dauphine — The beauty of the young bride — The 
Abb6 de Vermond — Hostility of the Due de la Vauguyon — 
Madame de NoaiUes — Worries over etiquette — Daily life de- 
scribed in a letter to Maria Theresa — How pictures were 
painted by a queen — The neglected education of Marie- An- 
toinette — Incessant spying on her actions — A duke listening 
at doors — Madame du Barry — Intrigues to influence the 
Dauphin. 



ON May 6, 1770, after having, in those days of slow 
traveling, left Vienna on the 21st of April, Marie- 
Antoinette reached Schutteren — the last G-erman 
town before Kehl — and the bridge over the Rhine. 
A pavilion had been erected on the island in the 
middle of the river, where she was to be solemnly 
given to the French envoys sent to receive her, and 
where she was to meet her French household. 

It was noticed with surprise that the walls of the 
temporary building erected for this impressive cere- 
mony were hung with tapestry representing, by the 
most extraordinary choice imaginable, the story of 
Medea and Jason. In addition to this ill-omened 
reception, the weather was dark and stormy when 



14 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

Marie- Antoinette crossed the threshold of the Pa- 
vilion of Exchange, as it was called; and a dark, 
threatening cloud, coming from the city of Stras- 
burg, was slowly advancing toward her over the 
Rhine. 

The three envoys of the French king stood in the 
central division as the door opened on the Austrian 
side and the Archduchess appeared. She advanced 
toward a platform in the center of the room while the 
formal surrender to the French was read over ; her 
Austrian attendants then kissed her hand and dis- 
appeared into the Austrian division, closing the door 
of separation. The Princess was then taken into a 
room on the French side, where she was undressed 
and clothed from head to foot in French attire, ac- 
cording to custom on such occasions. When ready, 
the door was thrown open, and the Princess appeared 
in full dress, as " Dauphine." Her French household 
was then formally presented to her; when, gracefully 
running to the Comtesse de Noailles, her dame 
d'honneur, or first lady, the young Princess em- 
braced her with the earnest request that she would 
be her guide and counsel in the performance of the 
new duties which awaited her. 

On the French bank of the Rhine one of the sixty 
traveling-carriages sent to meet her took the Prin- 
cess to Strasburg; but meanwhile the storm, which 
had grown more and more dark and lowering during 
the ceremony, burst over the city, and terrific peals 
of thunder mingled with the cheers of the crowd 



AERIVAL AT COMPlfiGNE 15 

as Marie- Antoinette passed througli the gates — a 
dreary entry into her future kingdom! 

After a short rest at Strasburg, the Princess con- 
tinued her journey, finding in every town an en- 
thusiastic reception, with the usual speeches, flowers, 
and cries of the crowd, while all the bells rang a 
festive peal. 

On the 14th of May she reached Compiegne, where, 
at some distance from the town, she met the Due de 
Choiseul, whom she welcomed as a friend. A few 
minutes later, as she crossed the forest of Com- 
piegne, the King and the Dauphin, with a numerous 
escort, made their appearance coming to meet her. 

Marie-Antoinette immediately stepped from her 
carriage, and, running toward the King, threw herseK 
on her knees at his feet, when he immediately raised 
and embraced her. The Dauphin, overpowered with 
shyness, hardly dared to look at his bride, but ven- 
tured to " salute her on the cheek." 

The next day the whole court left Compiegne for 
Versailles, stopping at St. Denis, where Marie- Antoi- 
nette wished to see her new aunt, Madame Louise, 
then a novice at the Carmelite convent, which caused 
intense delight to the nuns. She spent the night at 
the small chateau of La Muette, where the King 
presented her with a pearl necklace brought to 
France by Anne of Austria, and worn by the queens 
and dauphines of France, in which each pearl was 
the size of a hazel-nut and all were exactly of the 
same water. 



16 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

On the 16th of May, 1770, at ten o'clock in the 
morning, Marie- Antoinette made her official entry 
into that celebrated palace of Versailles which be- 
came her home till the outbreak of the French 
Revolution. 

The definitive marriage ceremony took place that 
morning in the chapel of Versailles, and was fol- 
lowed by great rejoicings. The youth of the bride, 
her childish grace, impressed every one favorably, 
and even the hostile " Mesdames " were propitiated. 
She was so young, so pretty, so ingenuous, so ca- 
ressing, that the imperious Madame Adelaide at 
once concluded that she would be easily governed 
and directed in all things ; Madame Victoire, natu- 
rally indulgent and good-natured, saw in her only a 
pretty plaything whom she could not help loving; 
Madame Sophie never had any opinion of her own, 
so she followed in her sisters' steps, without much 
cordiality — but that no one could expect from her. 
The King told Mercy that he found the young Dau- 
phine lively, but " rather childish " ; adding, however, 
" but that is only natural at her age." The heavy, shy 
Dauphin was not demonstrative; still he admitted 
that he liked her face and conversation, that she 
was very agreeable, and that he was altogether well 
pleased. 

The memoirs of the time all dwell upon the prom- 
ises of her yet undeveloped beauty: the noble cast 
of her features, her brilliant complexion, the golden 
shade of her beautiful hair, her graceful manner, 



THE APAETMENTS OF THE DAUPHINE 17 

and the remarkable dignity of her attitude. She 
spoke French well, with a slight German accent and 
some German idioms ; but she was so young and so 
completely surrounded by French attendants that 
these traces of her foreign origin soon disappeared. 

On the first arrival of Marie- Antoinette at Ver- 
sailles the traditional apartments of the queens of 
France were not ready to receive her, and for the 
fii'st six months she resided in temporary rooms on 
the ground floor of the palace. After this period 
she removed to the first floor, where a suite of splen- 
did rooms opening out of the " Galerie des Glaces," 
or Hall of Mirrors, was devoted to her use. The 
bedchamber had been used by Marie-Therese, con- 
sort of Louis XIV, by the Dauphine (mother of Louis 
XV), and by Queen Marie Leckzinska, his consort. 
All the princes and princesses of France in the di- 
rect line had been born in this splendid apartment, 
which is still shown to visitors. 

The immense "Galerie des Glaces" fills the pro- 
jecting center of the palace, looking toward the 
gardens; the large corner room with six immense 
windows, called " Salon de la Paix,'' which follows, 
leads into the Queen's bedchamber, looking to the 
south toward the sheet of water called " Piece d'eau 
des Suisses," framed in wooded hills. Nearer the 
palace are a parterre and the two staircases called 
"Escaliers des Cent Marches," or Hundred Steps.^ 
These lead to the building called " I'Orangerie," 

1 Literally the steps number one hundred and three. 



18 THE STOEY OF MAEEE-ANTOINETTE 

where twelve hundred orange-trees were sheltered 
in winter. 

Such was the view on which Marie-Antoinette's 
eyes rested till the outbreak of the Eevolution, when 
the royal family was forcibly taken to the Tuileries. 
The bedchamber is now empty and desolate, the 
only traces of her residence there being the large 
iron screws which secured the canopy over her bed, 
still to be distinguished in the ceiling, and a small 
door through which she escaped when the infuriated 
populace burst into the palace to take her life. 
This door led through a dark passage, lighted with 
lamps day and night, to the King's apartments, and 
was then concealed by hangings of Grobelin tapestry, 
which, separated by large mirrors, covered the walls. 
The bed was raised on steps behind a gilded balus- 
trade ; near the bed was a splendid dressing-table, 
which was pushed into the middle of the room for 
the official toilet, and was the handsomest piece of 
furniture that it contained. There were also arm- 
chairs with down cushions, tables for writing, etc., 
and two chests of drawers of elaborate workmanship. 
The curtains and hangings of the bed and windows 
were of rich but plain blue silk. The " tabom-ets," 
or stools, for those who had the privilege of being 
seated in the royal presence, with a sofa for the 
Queen's use, were placed against the walls, according 
to the formal custom of the time. The canopy of the 
bed was adorned with Cupids playing with garlands 
and holding gilt lilies, the royal flower. 



MADAME DE NOAILLES 19 

On the death of Marie Leckzinska all the furni- 
ture of her room had been given to her first lady, 
Madame de Noailles, and the room had remained 
unoccupied; all had therefore to be prepared anew 
for the Dauphine. 

Madame de Noailles, having been dame d'Jion- 
neur to the late Queen, was naturally appointed to 
the same post in the household of the young Dau- 
phine; unfortunately the habits acquired when at- 
tending a very precise and aged princess rendered 
her particularly unfitted to direct a wilful, merry 
girl of fourteen, whom she annoyed incessantly by 
remonstrating on some unconscious breach of eti- 
quette. Madame de Noailles was essentially the 
court lady, stiff and formal, entirely absorbed by 
the rules of her position, and looking upon the small- 
est breach of custom as little less than a sin. The 
Princess was respectfully chided for having forgotten 
this or that detail of etiquette, or told that her smiles 
and bows had not been properly distributed accord- 
ing to rank, till the young Dauphine, who had a keen 
sense of the ridiculous, became both exasperated and 
diverted by the constant anxiety of her dame d'Jion- 
neur. Madame de Noailles seemed to be perpetually in 
the agonized state attributed to some old lord in wait- 
ing at one of Queen Victoria's first drawing-rooms, 
when, seeing the Queen make a move toward a lady 
presented, he cried aloud in great alarm, " Don't kiss 
her. Ma'am ! She is not a peeress ! " the honor of a kiss 
from the sovereign being the privilege of peeresses. 



20 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

Marie-Antoinette had been ill prepared by the 
simplicity of the court of Vienna for such minute 
observances. The Empress was so revered by the 
people, the imperial family was so loved, that it was 
not necessary to awaken respect by so many of the 
proverbial " externals." On the other hand, the in- 
tense haughtiness which lay behind prevented any 
close contact with that half-nobility which had 
pushed . its way into the precincts of the court of 
France. Such unexceptionable pedigrees and quar- 
terings were required before any one could hold a 
post giving familiar access to " Her Sacred Majesty," 
that all were of the same rank around her, and the 
nice distinctions of the French court were unknown. 

Unfortunately for Marie- Antoinette, the Abbe de 
Vermond, who had accompanied her to France as 
reader, and who was strangely deficient in tact and 
judgment, instead of remembering the wise advice 
of Maria Theresa to her daughter, not to talk of 
Vienna or what was done there, constantly re- 
minded her of her mother's court, ridiculing to a 
willing listener the manifold ceremonies adopted in 
France. 

The Abbe was an ill-bred man, of inferior birth 
and social education, who owed to his position as 
teacher of Marie-Antoinette exceptional favors at 
the court of Vienna, which had in some degree 
turned his brain. He presumed upon these past 
privileges to assert what he conceived to be his 
rightful position at Versailles, often offending the 



THE ABBfi DE VERMOND 21 

personages who through their recognized rank held 
superior posts of honor at the court, with whom he 
affected a tone of equality which naturally caused 
great displeasure on the part of those who expected 
deferential respect. 

On the 8th of June, three weeks after the arrival 
of the young Princess, Mercy went to the palace to 
deliver into her hands a letter from her mother, the 
Empress, full of good advice. 

"The only real happiness in this world," she 
wrote, "is that which comes of a happy marriage. I 
can speak from experience. All depends on the wife: 
if she be obliging, amiable, and amusing P 

Again the Empress warns her against familiarity, 
well knowing her good-natured, easy temper; also 
against the demands which would assail her from 
those wishing to use her influence in their favor — 
an error into which Marie- Antoinette, forgetting her 
mother's warnings, often fell at a later period. 

Mercy reached the palace during the usual card- 
playing; but as soon as the Dauphine saw him she 
called him to her, saying that she wished to speak to 
Mm. He urged her to finish the game, but as soon 
as possible she rose. 

"Seeing that I had a paper in my hand," says 
Mercy, " she at once understood that it was a letter 
from your Majesty, and seized it with great eager- 
ness, exclaiming, * Gott sei Bank!^^ shomng much joy 
at receiving this letter, which she read immediately." 

1 God be thanked I 

2* 



22 THE STOEY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

But troubles were already gathering round Marie- 
Antoinette, and her wise mother not being within 
reach, she was anxious to consult Mercy as to what 
she should better do. 

It was indeed necessary for the poor child to have 
a friend near her, for she was surrounded by oppo- 
nents, not the least important of whom was the Due 
de la Vauguyon, State Tutor, or, as it was termed, 
" Governor," of the Dauphin. In this instance there 
was no personal animosity, but only excessive jeal- 
ousy of any influence which might counterbalance 
his own over the docile but apathetic and obtuse 
Dauphin. He knew that the pretty young wife was 
too childish to be feared, but those around her might 
make her their instrument, and he particularly dis- 
liked and dreaded the Abb^ de Vermond. 

The difficulty which Marie- Antoinette wished to 
lay before her adviser reveals the extraordinary 
disorder which prevailed in the court ; for she in- 
formed Mercy that the persons who now held posts 
in her household, and who previously were employed 
in other ways, had not been paid their salaries for 
six months, and that Madame de Noailles urged her 
to interfere by speaking herseE to the Controleur- 
General.^ What was she to do? 

Mercy approved, but had no time to say more, as 
the supper was served. When he went out the Com- 
tesse de NoaiUes summoned him to her apartments, 
and there he learned that the Due de la Vauguyon 

1 Controller-General of the household. 



HOSTILITY OF THE DUG DE LA VAUGUYON 23 

was trying to get rid of the Abbe de Yermond on 
pretense that his office of reader was a mere sine- 
cure, and that he was useless and out of place at 
court. Madame de NoaiUes complained bitterly of 
the proceedings of the Due de la Vauguyon, who 
tried in every way, by incessant misrepresentations, 
to diminish the attraction felt by the King toward 
the young Dauphine, adding that he caused Madame 
de Noailles herself so much annoyance by his inces- 
sant intrigues that she could bear it no longer, and 
would send in her resignation. 

Mercy felt that although Madame de NoaiUes was 
not exactly the most desirable person in the world 
for the supreme position which she filled in the Dau- 
phine's household, yet that she was an estimable 
and thoroughly respectable woman, which in such a 
court might not be the case with her successor. He 
therefore exerted all the influence that he could 
command to smooth over difficulties and pacify 
quarrels, interfering successfully with the King to 
prevent the dismissal of the Abbe de Vermond. 

The cloud had blown over, but Mercy took advan- 
tage of the threatened storm to work upon the good 
feelings of Marie- Antoinette by telling her that the 
Abbe could not, in justice to himself, retain his posi- 
tion unless the Princess accepted his services. 

The good Abbe had never known how to interest 
his pupil in her studies or readings, and certainly 
seems to have been something of what is familiarly 
called a bore ; but affectionate and warm-hearted as 



24 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

was Marie- Antoinette, she could not bear to be the 
cause of the departure of an old and tried friend. 
Consequently, though with evident reluctance, she 
promised to resume regular occupation under his di- 
rection. She had just reached the age when eman- 
cipation from school-room tasks is most earnestly 
desired, although she was still so childish that Mercy 
complains of her hoydenish ways, her fondness for 
romping with the young children of her attendants, 
and the consequent disorder of her dress. He notes also 
what were always marked characteristics of Marie- 
Antoinette — a strong sense of the ridiculous, and 
considerable pungency in the manner of calling atten- 
tion to anything of the kind which caught her fancy. 

In this, as in many other respects, Madame de 
Noailles ought to have exercised a wise and restrain- 
ing influence; but, although estimable, she was es- 
sentially narrow-minded, and so deeply imbued with 
respect for royalty that she dared not oppose the 
wishes of her young charge, limiting her solicitude 
to the minute observances of court etiquette. On 
this point alone she incessantly tormented the wilful 
young Princess, who, wearied and impatient, finally 
gave her the nickname of " Madame I'Etiquette." 

" Oh ! we must behave well now," she would say ; 
" here comes Madame I'Etiquette ! " 

We will let Marie- Antoinette herself relate the 
particulars of her daily life, in a letter to her mother 
dated July 12, 1770 — two months after her arrival 
at Versailles: 



DAILY LIFE DESCEIBED 25 

"Choisy/ 12th July, 
" Madame my veky deab Mothee : I cannot express 
how much I am affected by your Majesty's kindness, 
and I protest that I have not yet received one of 
your dear letters without tears of regret filling my 
eyes at being parted from such a kind and tender 
mother; and although I am very happy here, I 
should earnestly wish to return to see my dear, very 
dear family, if only for a short time. 

• «•••• 

"We have been here since yesterday, and from 
one o'clock in the afternoon, when we dine, till one 
in the morning, we cannot return to our own apart- 
ments, which is very disagreeable to me. After din- 
ner we have cards till six o'clock ; then we go to the 
play till half -past nine; then supper; then cards 
again till one o'clock, sometimes even haK-past one ; 
only yesterday the King, seeing that I was tired out, 
kindly dismissed me at eleven, to my very great 
satisfaction, and I slept very well till half-past ten. 

" Your Majesty is very kind to show so much in- 
terest in me even to the extent of wishing for an 
account of how I spend my time habitually.^ I will 
say, therefore, that I rise at ten o'clock, or nine, 
or half-past nine, and after dressing I say my 
prayers; then I breakfast, after which I go to my 
aunts',' where I usually meet the King. This lasts 

1 One of the royal residences, destroyed during the Eevolution. 

2 At Versailles. 

3 The " Mesdames." 



26 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

till half-past ten. At eleven I go to have my hair 
dressed. At noon the 'Chambre' is called, and 
any one of sufficient rank may come in. I put on 
my rouge ^ and wash my hands before everybody; 
then the gentlemen go out ; the ladies stay, and I 
dress before them. At twelve is mass; when the 
King is at Versailles I go to mass with him and my 
husband and my aunts ; if he is not there I go with 
Monsieur the Dauphin, but always at the same hour. 
After mass we dine together before everybody,^ but 
it is over by half-past one, as we both eat quickly. 
I then go to Monsieur the Dauphin ; if he is busy I 
return to my own apartments, where I read, I wi'ite, 
or I work, for I am embroidering a vest for the King, 
which does not get on quickly, but I trust that, with 
God's help, it will be finished in a few years. [!] At 
three I go to my aunts', where the King usually 
eomes at that time. At four the Abbe comes to me ; 
at five the master for the harpsichord, or the sing- 
ing-master, till six. At half -past six I generally go 
to my aunts' when I do not go out. You must know 
that my husband almost always comes with me to 
my aunts'. At seven, card-playing till nine; but 
when the weather is fine I go out, and then the 
eard-playing takes place in my aunts' apartments 
instead of mine. At nine, supper; when the King 
iB absent my aunts come to take supper with us ; if 

1 Rouge was then a recognized part of court dress. 

2 Any well-dressed people were admitted to see the dinners of the 
royal family, which they witnessed separated from them by a railing 
only. Marie-Antoinette greatly disliked the custom. 



DAILY LITE DESCRIBED 27 

the King is there, we go to them after supper, and 
we wait for the King, who conies usually at a quar- 
ter before eleven ; but I lie on a large sofa and sleep 
till his arrival; when he is not expected we go to 
bed at eleven. Such is my day. 

" I entreat you, my very dear mother, to forgive 
me if my letter is too long; but my greatest plea- 
sure is to be thus in communication with your Maj- 
esty. I ask pardon also for the blotted letter, but I 
have had to write two days running at my toilet, 
having no other time at my disposal; and if I do not 
answer all questions exactly, I trust that your Maj- 
esty will make allowances for my having too obe- 
diently burned your letter. I must finish this, as I 
have to di-ess and go to the King's mass. I have 
the honor to be your Majesty's most submissive 
daughter, Maeie-Antoinette." 

After reading this graphic account of the frivolous 
obligations inseparable from the court life of the 
period, can any one be surprised that a girl not yet 
fifteen was carried away by the current of the 
stream, and felt no inclination for a more useful or 
more serious life? It was so easy and natural to 
plead impossibility ; all the princesses she saw lived 
in the same manner, and did little but courtesy to 
the King at stated hours, and put on and off their 
cumbrous court dresses.^ Why should she alone be 
expected to employ her time usefully and cultivate 

1 The state dress of the Dauphine, mother of Louis XVI, weighed 
sixty-five pounds. 



28 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

her mind ? The princesses of the period were cred- 
ited with accomplishments without much personal 
trouble. Pictures were shown, and may still be 
seen, signed by Marie Leckzinska, the consort of 
Louis XV, and supposed to be her work. How 
were they executed? When the Queen went to 
her painting-room an artist was in attendance, who 
sketched all the outlines and prepared the faces and 
hands with all the most difficult parts. The palette 
was ready for the Queen. The artist took up the 
color on a brush, which he handed to her Majesty, 
repeating, "To the right — to the left — higher — 
lower, Madame." When she had daubed the can- 
vas to her satisfaction during the short time at her 
disposal, she left the room to perform her royal du- 
ties; the artist then hastened to scrape and touch 
up the painting, which the poor Queen honestly 
imagined to be her own performance. In the same 
manner, when a royal lady undertook a piece of em- 
broidery which was to be shown as her work, a 
clever needlewoman picked out stitches and put in 
others, till the whole presented the appearance of 
perfection. Matters are managed very differently in 
modern times; but the education of Marie- Antoi- 
nette herself had been carried on in this fashion, 
and she had innocently caused the dismissal of one 
of her governesses by telling the Empress that all 
her writing was traced in pencil, and she had only 
to go over it with a pen. 
In her letters to Mercy, the Empress complains 



INCESSANT SPYING 29 

bitterly of her daughter's handwriting and spelling, 
and again and again urges the necessity of taking 
up her education seriously. But it was very late to 
begin regular studies. 

In answer to an indignant letter from Maria The- 
resa, Mercy states that he spoke to the Abb4 de 
Vermond, who acknowledged deficiencies, but main- 
tained that the Dauphine never wrote so badly as 
when addressing her mother; the reason being 
that she did not consider what she wrote to be safe, 
and consequently delayed till the special messenger 
was about to leave, writing then in such haste that 
her letters were full of " inaccuracies due to precipi- 
tation." Whether with just cause or not, the Dau- 
phine considered no papers safe in her apartments ; 
she dreaded the use of false keys, or that her own 
should be taken from her pockets at night. Her 
fears were carried to such an extent that she actu- 
ally took her mother's letters to bed with her, as the 
only means of keeping them secure till the next day. 

What a picture of life at the court of Louis XV! 

That the caution of Marie- Antoinette was not en- 
tirely unfounded is proved from the fact that the 
Due de la Vauguyon was actually caught listening 
at the door of the room where the Dauphine was 
conversing privately with her husband. Marie- 
Antoinette, in a letter to her mother, relates this 
disgraceful act, saying : " A servant, who was either 
very honest or very stupid, threw the door open, and 
there was the duke standing bolt upright, without 



30 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

being able to get away. I remarked to my husband 
how very objectionable it was for people to listen at 
doors, and he took it very well." 

As yet there was only childish friendship between 
the boyish Prince and his young wife; he was 
amused at her playful ways, and good-naturedly 
submitted to all her wishes, even to the prohibition 
of his favorite dainties, which disagreed with him, 
and which she ordered to be removed from the 
dinner-table without allowing him to partake of 
them. As he possessed the enormous appetite which 
characterized the Bourbons, this must have been 
a trial of temper for the young husband. 

Meanwhile the Due de la Vauguyon was not in- 
active, and did not scruple to put forward Madame 
du Barry as a means of keeping his injQiuence over 
the Dauphin. The latter had boyishly expressed a 
wish to join the King's private hunting and shooting 
parties. Madame du Barry, to whom this was made 
known, immediately informed the King, who gave 
the required permission. The consequence was that 
the Dauphin, a boy of fifteen, was thus authorized 
not only to join the sport, but also to attend the sup- 
pers with the favorite which followed at the King's 
shooting-box called Saint-Hubert, where, as Mercy 
solemnly states, "the rules of propriety are not al- 
ways scrupulously observed." 

The "Mesdames," not unnaturally, were much 
alarmed at this emancipation of the young Prince, 
and at once determined to acquaint him with the 



INTEIGUES TO INFLUENCE THE DAUPHIN 31 

real position of Madame du Barry and all the mis- 
chief that she had already caused. The Dauphin 
was much shocked; his honest nature at once re- 
volted, and from that time he treated Madame du 
Barry with marked aversion. To his young wife 
he showed increased affection and confidence, en- 
tirely agreeing with her feelings as to the Due de la 
Vauguyon, and expressing his own with regard to 
Madame du Barry, though not without his usual 
caution. 

Unhappily, Marie- Antoinette, childish as she was, 
repeated what she heard from the Dauphin to the 
" Mesdames," who in their turn entertained their at- 
tendants with this private gossip: hence incessant 
bickerings, intrigues, and jealousies. 

In vain Maria Theresa writes to her daughter: 
"Keep a neutral position in everything. ... I desire 
you to be more reserved than ever as regards what 
is going on; listen to no secrets, and have no curi- 
osity. I am sorry to be obliged to say, confide no- 
thing — even to your aunts, whom I esteem so much. 
I have my reasons for saying this." 

But the open-hearted nature of Marie- Antoinette 
often prevented the prudence which her wise mother 
so earnestly inculcated. 



CHAPTER III 

Objections to the Dauphine's wish to ride on horseback — Donkeys 
allowed, as " these animals are not at all dangerous " — What 
is to be done when a Dauphine of France falls from a donkey ? 
— The Dauphine yields to the temptation of riding a horse — A 
solemn ambassador — Threats of anger on the part of Maria 
Theresa — The Dauphine greatly frightened — Amiable nature 
of Marie-Antoinette — A Dauphine of France loses her shoe 
in the mud — Picture of the court of Louis XV — The Dau- 
phine's position — Difficulties and court cabals — Disgrace of 
Choiseul — The Dauphine proudly refuses to propitiate Ma- 
dame du Barry — The Dauphin and his brother fight in the 
presence of Marie- Antoinette — Marriages of the Comte de Pro- 
vence and the Comte d'Artois — Letters of Maria Theresa — 
Illness of the King — Particulars of his death — What etiquette 
required of a gentleman in waiting. 



THE young DaupMne had a great wish to ride on 
horseback, which, in modern days, would give 
rise to no objections; but Mercy, foreseeing the dis- 
approbation of the Empress, applied to the King, 
through the Due de Choiseul, pleading the youth of 
the Princess and the probable want of moderation 
that she would show in the practice of " such violent 
exercise." The King satisfied them by refusing his 
consent to the use of horses, but allowed donkeys. 
Some exceedingly quiet specimens of the race were 
chosen, and the Dauphine rode with her ladies in 
the forest, Mercy gravely assuring the Empress 
that " these animals are not at all dangerous." 




MARIE-ADELAIDE-CLOTILDE-XAVIERE DE FRANCE. 



BY FRANCOIS-HUBERT DROUAIS, IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. 



OBJECTIONS TO HORSEBACK RIDING 33 

Nevertheless, Marie- Antoinette managed to slip 
from her saddle and to have a harmless fall. Her 
ladies, much alarmed, flew to her assistance. She 
sat on the ground, suppressing a strong inclination 
to laugh, but would not be raised till they had as- 
certained "what was the etiquette to be observed 
when a Dauphine of France fell from a donkey." 
History does not enlighten us as to the rules ob- 
served on this momentous occasion, or the decision 
of " Madame I'Etiquette." 

The Dauphine continued to ride her donkeys, but 
with an ever-increasing desire for real equestrian 
exercise, notwithstanding the strong objections of 
her mother, who wrote that she would spoil her 
complexion and her figure, besides many other evils. 
Still the wilful young Princess longed more and more 
for a horse, instead of the humble substitute. 

Madame Adelaide — whether from a good-natured 
wish to satisfy her, or from a more treacherous 
motive, does not seem clear — suggested that she 
might set out for one of her donkey excursions, send- 
ing beforehand an equerry with a horse, and that 
at a stated place she might meet the horse and dis- 
miss the donkey. The Dauphine, though strongly 
tempted, pleaded the fear of displeasing her mo- 
ther, also that the King might refuse his permission ; 
but Madame Adelaide overruled all scruples, and 
finally the Dauphine consented. At the appointed 
place the horse met her, and the young Princess 
rode with great delight and no danger, an equerry 



34 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

holding the bridle and several attendants walking 
by her side. Marie- Antoinette enjoyed her ride, and 
not less the prospect of seeing " how Mercy would 
look," as she told the Duchesse de Chaulnes, who, of 
course, immediately repeated the childish jest to 
Mercy. The latter delayed attending her evening 
circle for a day or two, although he had letters from 
the Empress to deliver ; but finally he made an omi- 
nously solemn entrance into the presence of the 
young Dauphine, who at once called him to her, ask- 
ing if he knew that she had " ridden a horse." 

Mercy bowed low, and gravely answered, " Oui." 

The Dauphine then rejoined, with evident ner- 
vousness : " I was in great haste to tell you, but I did 
not see you, although every one immediately congra- 
tulated me on what had given me so much pleasure." 

Still solemn, Mercy replied that he should be 
much mortified if she supposed that he could join 
those who complimented her; that as he had real 
zeal and respect for what concerned her, he could 
only be grieved at what he thought injurious and 
likely to displease the Empress. 

At this the poor girl's countenance changed, and, 
exceedingly frightened, she said earnestly with child- 
like simplicity : " You would throw me into despair 
if you said that I could grieve the Empress; I assure 
you that I am in great anxiety," then eagerly bring- 
ing forward as her justification the King's consent 
and her wish to please the Dauphin by sharing his fa- 
vorite exercise. Mercy made no reply, but solemnly 



A SOLEMN AMBASSADOR 35 

delivered the letters and retired, leaving poor Marie- 
Antoinette more frightened than ever. The whole, 
according to modern appreciation, would seem to 
be a case of "much ado about nothing." 

The next day the Princess sent for Mercy, and en- 
treated him to take her part and to justify her in 
the sight of her mother, the Empress, which he con- 
sented to do, provided she would promise not to 
follow hunts on horseback or to gallop. 

Mercy, in fact, warned Maria Theresa that as the 
King had consented, and the Dauphin had approved, 
it would be impossible to prevent Marie- Antoinette 
from continuing to indulge in exercise on horseback, 
and that the fruitless attempt might have injurious 
consequences with regard to the moral authority of 
the Empress over her daughter. 

Maria Theresa answered that she knew her daugh- 
ter sufficiently well to be quite convinced that no- 
thing would prevent her from doing anything that 
she strongly wished to do ; but that, nevertheless, 
she would write to her. 

Marie-Antoinette waited with great anxiety for 
her mother's answer with regard to equestrian ex- 
ercise, and eagerly asked Mercy if he had "good 
news" to give her. The letter of Maria Theresa, 
although hardly satisfactory, sufficed as a half au- 
thorization, of which she took advantage heartily. 

"You say that the King approves, also the Dau- 
phin; they must dispose of all concerning you. I 
have given them my pretty Antoinette." 



36 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

But the Empress dwells at length on all the evils 
which may result from this concession, and con- 
cludes : 

" Now that I have laid all this before you, I shall 
say no more, and shall try not to think about it." 

Marie- Antoinette had carried her point, and this 
was all for which she really cared. Notwithstanding 
her childish wilfulness, her nature was so bright and 
amiable, that it was easy for her to win general 
popularity; but in what concerned the King her life 
was a perpetual struggle with court cabals, which 
created incessant diflS.culties. The position of Ma- 
dame du Barry was a particularly sensitive point on 
the part of the King, to whom the favorite com- 
plained bitterly of any slight, while the ladies of the 
Dauphine absolutely refused to yield her the prece- 
dence which she claimed. The blame of these 
squabbles fell on the young Princess herself. 

Still the pretty and winning Dauphine managed 
playfully to keep in favor with " Papa," as she called 
the King. The Dauphin, heavy and almost stupid 
as he seemed, was more and more captivated by his 
young wife, submitting to be scolded by her for his 
uncivilized ways, and ever ready to further her 
wishes, even when contrary to his own. He hated 
dancing, but as she liked it he arranged to have a 
ball every Monday in the private apartments of the 
young couple, but without ceremony, the ladies 
wearing white dominoes,* the gentlemen their ordi- 

1 A pelisse, entirely enveloping the figure. 



AMIABLE NATURE OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 37 

nary court dress. These balls were highly approved 
by Maria Theresa, as "a great advantage to the 
Dauphin," whose somewhat boorish manners really 
considerably improved, while he retained, neverthe- 
less, the good-natured simplicity which had always 
characterized him. Madame de Noailles having 
given a ball in her own private apartments, the 
Dauphin took his young wife on his arm and walked 
in unexpectedly, saying graciously to the hostess : 

" I hope, madame, that you will admit both hus- 
band and wife. We come not to inconvenience you 
in any way, but only to share your amusements." 
This condescension was highly appreciated by all 
present, and the Dauphine was credited with having 
civilized the young Prince. 

The minute difficulties and inconveniences which 
beset the Princess in her daily life would hardly be 
believed but for the testimony of competent wit- 
nesses. Mercy states in a letter to Maria Theresa : 
"I must call attention to the fact that the Dauphine, 
whose purse is nominally of six thousand livres ^ a 
month, has not in reality a single crown at her dis- 
posal. There are scandalous abuses here as regards 
money matters. The Dauphine's purse is given into 
the care of her treasurer, who keeps back two thou- 
sand five hundred livres every month for pensions 
granted by the late Queen, and which have fallen 
on the Dauphine without her knowing anything 
about them. Her gargons de chamhre receive one 

1 The livre was rather more than the modem franc. 



38 THE STOET OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

hundred louis a month for the Dauphine's card- 
playing. Whether she wins or loses, no one sees 
anything more of this money. The Bedchamber 
women take charge of all the remainder, which is 
usually distributed in gifts suggested by Madame 
de Noailles, with the forced consent of the Dauphine, 
who thus keeps no money at her own disposal. She 
is certainly not well dressed, but that is the fault of 
the lady who has the charge of her wardrobe. This 
lady pays little attention to it, and has not much 
taste." 

The. Dauphine was allowed a sum of 120,000 livres 
for her dress alone ; but she never interfered in any 
way, and everything was decided, without consulting 
her, by the dame (fatour, who ordered what was ne- 
cessary according to her own appreciation, and set- 
tled the bills of the various tradesmen. At the end 
of the year she presented incomprehensible accounts, 
which the Dauphine was required to sign and ap- 
prove, with the result that the Dauphine's expenses 
greatly exceeded the allotted sum, without any fault 
of her own. 

Mercy was called to the rescue, and discovered the 
most absurd extravagance. For instance, three ells 
of ribbon, to tie the powdering-gown of the Dau- 
phine, were put down daily ; also several ells of silk 
(daily !) to cover the basket in which her gloves and 
fan were deposited, with many other items of the 
same kind, noted by Mercy in solemn reprobation. 

With all this waste, the arrangements around her 



PICTURE OF THE COURT OF LOUIS XV 39 

were strangely deficient in comfort, as is proved 
by a trifling incident. In the latter part of Novem- 
ber the Dauphine and the " Mesdames," on their re- 
turn from Choisy to Versailles, partly followed the 
King's hunt in their carriage; but at a particular 
place where there was a river with a ferry, the " Mes- 
dames " became frightened, fearing an accident, and, 
despite the expostulations of the Dauphine, insisted 
upon alighting, although the ground was very muddy 
and marshy. Marie- Antoinette, forced to follow them, 
lost one of her shoes in the mud, and went back to 
Choisy thoroughly wet. She seems to have had 
there no means of changing her clothes, for she was 
obliged to dry them by a fire, to which she drew so 
near that she singed her dress. Not unnaturally, she 
became thoroughly chilled, and on reaching Ver- 
sailles in her half-dried clothes found no fire pre- 
pared in her apartments, which did not improve 
matters. Of course she caught a violent cold, which, 
happily, was not followed by serious consequences. 

But the King's hunting-parties caused other evils. 
The Dauphine followed them two or three times a 
week, and in her ready good-nature she desired cold 
meats and refreshments to be taken in her carriage, 
which she distributed herself among the courtiers as 
"collation." The natural consequence was that all 
the young men crowded round her, with the result 
of too much freedom and buoyancy of spirits on all 
sides, which greatly displeased the King. 

The kindness of Marie- Antoinette, which often led 



40 THE STORY OP MABIE-ANTOINETTE 

her into difficulties, was not deficient on more serious 
occasions, and no accident or injury to any of her ser- 
vants ever failed to awaken her warmest sympathy, 
which was shown in the most efficacious manner. On 
one occasion, she was found in her apartments en- 
gaged in dressing and bandaging the wounded hand 
of an old servant, who had received some hurt in 
moving a piece of furniture at her request. The 
man seemed equally astonished and grateful on see- 
ing the anxiety and regret shown by the young Prin- 
cess, who attended to him as his daughter might have 
done. Another time, during a drive, a postilion was 
thrown from his horse and was seriously hurt. The 
Comtesse de Provence drove on with complete indif- 
ference, although the man belonged to her own 
stables. The Dauphine sprang from her carriage, ran 
to the man, and with anxious eagerness gave all 
necessary orders, and sent for medical assistance, 
refusing to leave the man till he had all the care re- 
quired. On another occasion, a peasant was wounded 
by an infuriated stag, during one of the King's hunt- 
ing-parties. The man's wife fainted, supposing her 
husband to be killed. The Dauphine ran to her, 
supported her in her arms, and gave her every as- 
sistance, with kind and soothing words of comfort. 
The warm heart of Marie- Antoinette never failed to 
respond to any appeal. 

Her mother's severe letters, the troublesome inter- 
ference of Mercy, the exhortations of the Abbe de 
Vermond, never ruffled her sweet temper or pro- 




LOUIS-STANISLAS-XAVIER DE BOURBON, 
COMTE DE PROVENCE, AFTERWARD LOUIS XVIII. 

FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT £ CO. N. Y., OF A PAINTING BY JEAN-MARTIAL FREDOU, 
BELONGING TO MARQUIS OE VIRIEU AT THE CHATEAU DE LANTILLY. 



THE DAUPHINE'S POSITION 41 

voked a word of rebellion. "I admire every day her 
gentleness and docility," says the Abbe de Vermond. 
"She allows me, in the presence of her dame 
d'honneur and her bedchamber women, to express 
truths which, though respectfully worded, are firm 
and stronger than what I used to say to her at 
Vienna in her private room. I know that I owe her 
confidence to the approbation of the Empress; but 
is it not remarkable that it should be persistent, and 
that the Dauphine should have the moral courage to 
keep near her a troublesome monitor in the midst of 
so much flattery and adulation ? " 

But although always gentle and submissive, there 
was one point in which no satisfactory result could 
be obtained — that of regular occupation. In vain 
Maria Theresa incessantly refers to troublesome 
questions, and insists upon a definite account of 
what is really done, requiring a list of the books 
read. The so-called "studies" with the Abbe de Ver- 
mond were, in fact, only insignificant conversations, 
and Marie- Antoinette began to be frightened at her 
mother's pertinacious inquiries. 

" What am I to do ? Mama wishes for an account 
of my readings ! " 

"You will surely tell the truth, Madame " ; and the 
Abbe made fresh exhortations, with the suggestion 
of writing a summary of the " readings." 

But how, and when? There was an incessant 
going in and out of officials in the Dauphine's apart- 
ments, and the Abbe dreaded suspicion of political 



42 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

interference on his part if he were seen writing with 
her. The Dauphine might write alone, but he feared 
" her carelessness and indolence, which would induce 
her to put off the effort, and finally omit it." 

"Our princes and princesses," says Vermond, 
" when their education is considered finished, have 
no regular occupation and listen to no advice. They 
may be governed in fact, but are not enlightened or 
directed." 

This was not quite the case with Marie- Antoinette, 
who received remonstrances from all sides. She was 
full of good resolutions, sincerely promised amend- 
ment, and — with much self-reproach — went on as 
before ! 

She romped with children; she played with dogs; 
she laughed and chatted with "my aunts"; she fol- 
lowed hunts even on horseback, notwithstanding her 
word pledged to her mother ; she danced, and so her 
hfe passed despite her dread of "mama's" scruti- 
nizing letters. 

The attention of the wise mother became, how- 
ever, engrossed by a more serious matter — the im- 
pending fall of Choiseul, who had always been a 
stanch supporter of the Austrian alliance, and had 
settled the marriage of the Dauphin with the Arch- 
duchess Marie- Antoinette. 

The fall of Choiseul was not only of the greatest 
importance to Maria Theresa, by withdrawing from 
the French government her most valuable friend, 
but it was also an event which gained greater mag- 



DIFFICULTIES AND COUET CABALS 43 

nitude as a criterion of the influence to be attributed 
to Madame du Barry. ChoiseuJ had always treated 
the favorite with the contempt that she deserved, 
and the ladies of his family had spoken of her in 
unsparing terms, especially his sister, the clever and 
spirited Beatrice de Choiseul, Duchesse de Gramont,^ 
who was known to have great influence over her 
brother. 

Madame du Barry consequently hated the whole 
family, and was determined to remove their obnox- 
ious presence from Versailles, leaving nothing un- 
tried to reach this end. She playfully but incessantly 
teased the King, winding up her arguments by toss- 
ing oranges as she laughingly repeated: "Jump, 
Choiseul ! Jump, Praslin ! " ^ 

Meanwhile her supporters importuned the King 
more seriously, calling his attention to the supposed 
danger of Choiseul's liberal views and his alleged 
connivance with the rebellious Parliament. Testi- 
mony which seems to have been false was brought 
forward to prove this ; the Prince de Cond6, a mem- 
ber of the royal family, was persuaded to speak to 
the King, and the chancellor threatened to resign if 
the prime minister were not dismissed. 

What with Madame du Barry's oranges and teas- 
ing, added to the solemn warnings of politicians, the 

iThe Duchesse de Gramont died on the scaffold during the French 
Revolution, disdaining to save her life at the expense of a falsehood. 
There are two families of the same name — Grammont and Gramont. 

2"Saxite, Choiseul! Saute, Praslin!" (The Duo de Choiseul was 
also Due de Praslin.) 



44 THE STORY OF MAEEE-ANTOINETTE 

peace of tlie indolent old monarch was sufficiently 
disturbed to induce him to get rid of Choiseul at 
any cost. 

The prime minister was informed of his disgrace 
by a stern letter from the King expressing great dis- 
satisfaction with his services, and enjoining him to 
retire to his country house, which he was not to leave 
without permission. This, in the language of the 
time, was called " going into banishment." Choiseul 
took the matter coolly, and immediately went to 
Paris, where he found the duchess, his wife, just 
sitting down to dinner. 

She at once said to him: "You look like a ban- 
ished man; but sit down — your dinner will not be 
the less good." 

They dined quietly; the duke then spent the re- 
mainder of the day in the settlement of business 
matters, and the next morning he retired to his 
country-seat of Chanteloup with his wife and sister, 
followed by numerous friends who remained faithful 
to him, notwithstanding his fallen fortunes. 

Mercy writes shortly afterward (April 16, 1771) to 
Maaia Theresa, giving a strange picture of the court: 

" It is almost impossible that your Majesty should 
form a correct idea of the horrible confusion which 
reigns here. The throne is disgraced by the exten- 
sive and indecent influence of the favorite, and the 
wickedness of her partizans. 

"The nation shows its feeling by seditious re- 
marks and disloyal pamphlets, where the person of 



DISGRACE OF CHOISEUL 45 

the sovereign is not spared. Versailles is the abode 
of treachery, spite, and hatred; everything is done 
through motives of personal interest, and all honor- 
able feehng seems to be discarded." 

Madame du Barry had proved her power, and 
Maria Theresa was too good a politician not to draw 
her own conclusions as to the necessity of conciliat- 
ing the favorite. But here she met with unexpected 
resistance from Marie-Antoinette, who would not 
stoop to any advances toward a woman whom she 
despised. 

In vain Maria Theresa brought forward the plau- 
sible argument that she had no right to judge her 
grandfather or to look upon Madame du Barry's po- 
sition as different from that of any other lady ad- 
mitted to his court. For once Marie- Antoinette was 
rebellious, and plainly declared to her mother that 
she would do anything to satisfy her except what 
was " contrary to honor." 

Great was the wrath of the Empress, who in her 
reply showed so much indignation at the insinuation 
that she could advise anything " contrary to honor," 
that the poor young Dauphine finally was driven to 
half measures, which, as usual, satisfied no one and 
decidedly displeased Madame Adelaide, whose aver- 
sion for Madame du Barry was not concealed, and 
who required the same attitude from her nephew's 
wife. In all these difficulties, the Dauphin was too 
timorous and too undecided in his actions to be 
of any real use or support to the young wife thus 



46 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

besieged by conflicting advice and exigencies. Al- 
though the marriage of the Comte de Provence was 
in serious preparation, the royal brothers were still 
such absolute school-boys that they quarreled and 
fought even in the presence of Marie- Antoinette, who 
on one occasion hurt her hand in trying to separate 
them. They were all, in fact, mere children, and 
should be judged as such. 

The Dauphin had received a good, plain education, 
and possessed a considerable amount of stolid good 
sense, with the best and most honorable feelings. 
He was thoroughly kind-hearted and good-natured; 
unfortunately, he was conscious of his external defi- 
ciencies, and was consequently so painfully shy and 
timid that his natural awkwardness was consider- 
ably increased. He seldom knew what to say or do, 
or when it should be said or done. This unfortunate 
hesitation followed him through life, and was the 
principal cause of many misfortunes. Even toward 
his young wife, whom he deeply loved, he could not 
bring himself to show his real affection; and al- 
though always kind and particularly good-natured, 
he seemed indifferent and even cold in his treat- 
ment of her. 

The Comte de Provence was more intelligent than 
his elder brother, and rather pedantic, fond of classic 
studies and quotations. He was jealous of his bro- 
ther's superior rank, and quite convinced that he 
himseK was far more capable of filling his position. 
In this he was, perhaps, not wholly mistaken. He 



MAERIAaE OF THE COMTE DE PROVENCE 47 

was reserved and prudent, but neither straightfor- 
ward nor sincere; he had, however, far more tact 
than the Dauphin, and knew better how to steer 
his way through court intiigues and cabals. 

The Comte d'Artois was a complete scapegrace, 
who behaved like a spoiled child and followed his 
very questionable tastes without restraint. His ap- 
pearance and manners, nevertheless, distinguished 
him favorably from his brothers, that is, when he 
chose to behave like a gentleman, which was not 
always the case. 

The question of the marriage of the Comte de 
Provence, soon to be followed by that of the Comte 
d'Artois, was a subject of fresh anxiety to Maria 
Theresa and her faithful Mercy. Would the Princess 
chosen be a friend or an enemy ? What would be 
her influence over the King and the " Mesdames " ? 
The final choice of a princess of Savoy, daughter of 
the Prince of Piedmont (afterward King of Sardinia), 
was agreeable to the latter, — any one rather than 
an Austrian, — and many cutting insinuations were 
thrown out by Madame Adelaide, sometimes en- 
dured with seeming unconsciousness, sometimes 
taken up sharply by Marie- Antoinette. 

" If mama could see how things go on here, she 
would be less severe in her judgment of me," said 
the Dauphine to Mercy ; " matters are really unen- 
durable." 

The Princess of Savoy anived — shy, insignificant, 
and absolutely devoid of beauty. Her portraits give 



48 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

the idea of a dark, full face with coarse features and 
thick lips, redeemed only by fine dark eyes. But the 
first impression of the King was unfavorable. " She 
is very ugly ! " was his characteristic remark. 

The Dauphin, with his usual blunt sincerity, ex- 
pressed much the same opinion to his brother, who, 
to his credit, replied with dignity: "I like her as 
she is." 

There could be no comparison between the Dau- 
phine and her sister-in-law — a fresh source of envy, 
increased by the marked preference shown by the 
King to the pretty and graceful Dauphine. 

With her natural warmth of feeling, aided by the 
politic advice of Mercy, Marie- Antoinette tried in 
every way to propitiate the Comtesse de Provence, 
and, though with some fluctuations due to ill-natured 
remarks from the " Mesdames," she succeeded in es- 
tablishing friendly intercourse; but, from time to 
time, small incidents revealed a degree of duplicity 
on the part of both the Comte and Comtesse de 
Provence which especially shocked and chilled the 
open-hearted frankness of Marie- Antoinette. 

On one of these occasions she ran to her husband 
and embraced him, saying earnestly: "I feel that I 
love you every day more and more. Your honesty 
and frankness charm me, and the more I compare 
you to others, the more I know how much greater 
your worth is than theirs." 

This effusive speech, although so evidently sincere, 
did not suffice to give confidence to the too diffident 




ANTOINE-PAUL-JACQUES DE QUELEN DE STUER DE CAUSSADE, 
DUG DE LA VAUGUYON. 

AFTER A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT 4 CO., N. Y., OF THE PAINTING BY MULE. BRESSON. 



THE DAUPHIN 49 

Prince. Some time after this incident he suddenly- 
asked his wife: "Do you really love me?" She 
earnestly replied: "Indeed I do, and every day I 
esteem you more highly." 

He seemed happy on receiving this assurance, but 
his uncouth manners and awkward ways often irri- 
tated the Dauphine, who lost patience and reproved 
him sharply. He showed no anger at these remon- 
strances, but his eyes would fill with tears. When 
she saw this she embraced him, and her own tears 
would flow ; but notwithstanding her efforts and his 
good intentions, the attempt to civilize the Dauphin 
seemed hopeless. 

As a boy he had been neglected, and, with his very 
sensitive heart, the absence of all tenderness and 
affection around him had made him shrink within 
himself and become incapable of expressing what he 
well knew how to feel. After the death of his mother 
he had said mournfully : " Whom can I love now ? 
No one loves me here ! " He now loved his wife, but 
could hardly believe that she returned his affection. 

The death of the Due de la Vauguyon delivered 
Marie- Antoinette from an adversary, if not an enemy. 
Unhappily, the Due d'Aiguillon, who had replaced 
Choiseul as prime minister, headed the an ti- Austrian 
party, and was on terms of intimate friendship with 
Madame du Barry. This was enough to cause in- 
tense dislike on the part of Marie- Antoinette, which 
she showed with her characteristic but impolitic 
frankness. In vain her wary mother and Mercy 



BO THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

remonstrated, both understanding only too well that 
she was wilfully creating a dangerous enemy. She 
could not understand how advisers whom she re- 
spected could exhort her to feign what she did not 
feel. But meanwhile the Comte de Provence and 
his wife, the latter guided by her cautious husband, 
did all that the Dauphine did not do, and ingratiated 
themselves with those whom she haughtily disdained. 
The marriage of the Comte d^Artois to the sis- 
ter of the Comtesse de Provence soon followed, at- 
tended by the usual intrigues. The Princess was 
not endowed with more beauty or grace than her 
sister, though with a better complexion, — her only 
superiority. But she was less intelligent and more 
disagreeable in manner. The sisters had never been 
on very affectionate terms in their father's palace, 
and they now agreed only in their immensely high 
opinion of the merits of the house of Savoy, to 
which they belonged, and in jealousy of the superior 
rank and greater personal attractions of the Dau- 
phine, to whom they unwillingly yielded the pre- 
cedence which was her due. "If I am not to be a 
queen, I am of the stuff of which queens are made," 
the Comtesse de Provence remarked haughtily ; and 
at a later period, when Marie-Antoinette had be- 
come Queen of France, the Comte d'Artois one day 
found his sisters-in-law in sharp discussion beyond 
what the respect required by etiquette could allow. 
The Queen, with heightened color, turned to him: 
"Mon frere, here is Madame, who maintains that 



INCESSANT SQUABBLES 51 

the house of Savoy holds the first rank among 
royal families. Now every one knows that the 
house of Austria is the highest of all." 

" Madame," quickly replied the French prince, " I 
know nothing of the kind. I thought you were 
speaking seriously; but as I see now that you 
must be in jest, nothing more need be said on the 
subject." 

Marie-Antoinette felt the lesson conveyed, and 
said no more ; but from the first arrival of the Pied- 
montese princesses, the daughter of the Grerman 
Csesars could not maintain her position without 
incessant struggles. In her dislike for court tram- 
mels, she had gladly allowed Madame Adelaide to 
continue to preside over the official circle in the 
evenings, which was her own prerogative as future 
queen; but Mercy now insisted upon her right be- 
ing immediately claimed, lest it should be usurped 
by the Comtesse de Provence, who would thus be 
placed in a superior position. 

" Trifles light as air " caused incessant squabbles, 
notwithstanding the amiable efforts of Marie- Antoi- 
nette to promote peace and affectionate intimacy 
with her sisters-in-law. The aunts interfered, tak- 
ing part now with one, now with another, but more 
frequently blaming Marie- Antoinette. 

The state visit of the Dauphin and Dauphine 
to Paris, which ought to have taken place on their 
marriage, but which had been constantly deferred, 
was at last granted by Louis XY. The Dauphine 



52 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

won all hearts by her grace and charm of manner ; 
even the Dauphin sufficiently conquered his habit- 
ual shyness to produce a favorable impression ; and 
when they both appeared on that balcony of the 
palace of the Tuileries^ where so many princesses 
have been presented to the population of Paris, the 
enthusiasm with which the Dauphine was greeted 
knew no bounds. 

Marie-Antoinette, describing the scene to her 
mother, the Empress, exclaims: "How happy we 
should feel in our state, on winning so easily the 
love of a whole nation ! And yet nothing is so pre- 
cious. I felt this deeply, and shall never forget it." 

Alas! the love of a nation is fickle, and Marie- 
Antoinette was destined to learn its insecurity! 

The Empress continued her exhortations and rep- 
rimands, without ever provoking rebellion on the 
part of her really remarkably submissive daughter, 
who tried to improve, renewed her resolutions, 
and, though with fluctuations, read more regularly 
with the Abbe de Vermond, studied music, and made 
considerable progress, especially on the harp, which 
she particularly liked. She also danced very grace- 
fully and well. The poor Dauphin took lessons with 
her, but with his ungainly figure and heavy steps 
never reached the desired result. The Empress com- 
plained of her daughter's letters as too laconic and 
cold; but when exhorted by Mercy on the subject of 
showing affection to her mother, poor Marie- Antoi- 

1 The last royal bride who appeared there was the Empress Eugenie. 



LETTERS OF MAEIA THERESA 53 

nette replied : " I love the Empress, but I fear her, 
even at a distance. "When I write I never feel at 
ease with her." 

To this Maria Theresa replies : " Do not say that 
I scold, that I preach, but say: 'Mama loves me, 
and has constantly my advantage in view; I must 
believe her and comfort her by following her good 
advice.' You will find the benefit of this, and there 
will then be no further shadow between us. I am 
sincere, and I exact great sincerity and candor to- 
ward myself." 

But in writing to Mercy the Empress speaks se- 
verely of Marie- Antoinette. "Notwithstanding all 
your care and discernment in directing my daughter, 
I see only too clearly how unwilling are her efforts 
to follow your advice and mine. In these days only 
flattery and a playful tone are liked ; and when, with 
the best intentions, we address any serious remon- 
strance, our young people are wearied, consider that 
they are scolded, and, as they always suppose, with- 
out reason. I see that this is my daughter's case. 
I shall, nevertheless, continue to warn her when you 
see that it may be useful to do so, adding some 
amount of flattery, much as I dislike that style." She 
adds that she has not much hope of success in con- 
quering her daughter's " indolence." 

Notwithstanding her mother's asperity, Marie- An- 
toinette really loved her ; if she knew that the Em- 
press was either ill in health or unhappy, she wept 
bitterly and seemed miserable. With regard to the 



54 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

vexed question of the readings with the Abbe, the 
few books whose titles are quoted are so uninterest- 
ing and of such poor literature that her dislike to 
them cannot cause surprise. The poor good man 
had really no idea of choosing books that could in- 
terest a young girl or develop her mind. 

The enthusiastic reception which the young couple 
had met from the Parisians led them to return to 
Paris and appear at the opera and theaters, where 
they were always well received. But the young 
members of the royal family, encouraged by the free 
use of these pleasures, took a strong fancy to see the 
public masked baU at the Opera. Every precaution 
being taken as to the manner in which they were 
surrounded, so as to obviate the evident drawbacks 
to such an amusement, the King consented to the 
freak, which was much enjoyed. Unfortunately, this 
was the beginning of the excessive liking shown 
at a later period by Marie- Antoinette for such ob- 
jectionable diversions. 

Theatricals also became a passion. The young 
princes and princesses got up charades and even 
plays in their private apartments, with only the 
Dauphin as spectator, and so far there was no harm. 
The Dauphin, seeing how much all this was enjoyed, 
established a small theater in his apartments, where 
short, amusing plays were performed by profes- 
sional actors ; these, too, were received with delight. 
Everything that could isolate them from the solemn 
pleasures of the court was welcome to aU the young 



THEATRICALS AND CARD-PLAYINa 55 

pe()ple. There were, however, balls given in the pal- 
ace which the Dauphine liked sufficiently to remain 
tm six o'clock in the morning ; she then heard mass, 
and went to bed till two o'clock in the afternoon. 
On such occasions it may be supposed that the lit- 
erary interviews with the Abbe were omitted. 

The pleasures which they shared with the EZing, 
even when comparatively harmless, had other seri- 
ous drawbacks. In one evening, at the King's play 
of lansquenet, the Dauphine won twelve hundred 
louis.^ Much annoyed at her success, she tried to lose 
the sum again ; finally, at the end of the game, she 
retained a profit of seven hundred louis. The next 
morning she sent fifty louis to each of the two prin- 
cipal parishes of Versailles for the poor, and con- 
sulted Mercy as to the disposal of the remainder, 
declaring that she would keep nothing for herself. 
Mercy advised her to divide the sum between her 
servants, who had now remained a year and a haK 
without receiving their wages ; this the Dauphine 
effected immediately, which caused general satisfac- 
tion. Mercy notes that she was not naturally gen- 
erous, and that when gifts were received from her 
they had been extorted by importunity which she 
could not resist; but in general she did not spon- 
taneously show even sufficient liberality for the 
requirements of her high position. 

Time went by, gradually developing the peculiari- 

1 The louis was then worth nearly twenty-five francs (between 
four and five dollars). 



56 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

ties of each member of the royal family. The young 
Dauphine, surrounded by jealous intrigues and cabals 
incessantly renewed, sought relief from troublesome 
cares in constant amusement; but she remained 
amiable and kind to all through every provoca- 
tion, always trying to conciliate and to make peace, 
but often exaggerating sincerity, and imprudent in 
her confidence. The Dauphin, honest, honorable, 
straightforward, but blunt and rough in manner, 
had an amount of physical strength which he needed 
to expend, and consequently indulged in violent 
exercise, and even manual labor, to the great annoy- 
ance of the Dauphine. He liked to make incessant 
changes in his apartments, and worked himseE with 
the men employed at their various trades, recklessly 
soiling his hands and his clothes in very unroyal 
fashion, to the astonishment and consternation of 
the courtiers around him. The Comte and Comtesse 
de Provence, cautious and prudent, but often treach- 
erous, constantly tried to make mischief out of some 
incautious word or unguarded act of the Dauphine, 
but preserved smooth appearances. The Comte 
d'Artois, now emancipated from the restraint of his 
tutors, showed the worst possible tendencies, with an 
amount of insubordination and rudeness that even the 
patient Dauphin was forced to repress ; the Comtesse 
d'Artois, while less treacherous than her sister, was 
openly disagreeable, jealous, and ill-tempered. 

The "Mesdames," who might have played a judi- 
cious and pacifying part in all these minute squab- 



ILLNESS OF THE KING 57 

bles, made matters worse by listening to all the gossip 
retailed by their attendants, and showing their pref- 
erences according to the impressions received. 

The King seemed more apathetic than ever, but 
gloomy, and as if beset by dark forebodings. His 
day was at hand, and he appeared to foresee the 
coming doom. 

On April 28, 1774, Louis XV felt the first symp- 
toms of illness while at Trianon, his favorite summer 
palace adjoining Versailles, to which he returned 
immediately. During the night of the 29th, the 
characteristic eruption of smallpox appeared, in its 
worst form. 

With admirable devotedness, the King's daugh- 
ters came to his bedside, notwithstanding the dread- 
ful danger of contagion, and remained there day and 
night till his death. Marie-Antoinette had asked 
admittance to his room, but, for very evident reasons, 
neither the heii* apparent nor his wife were allowed 
to breathe an atmosphere so dangerous that more 
than fifty persons took the smallpox, merely from 
having crossed the gallery before the door of the 
King's room, and several died. Monsieur de Leto- 
rieres took the disease fatally, merely through having 
opened the door to look at the King for two minutes. 

Regardless of danger, the Archbishop of Paris 
came to Versailles, and in order to be ready in the 
case of any emergency, he took up his residence at 
the house of the Lazarist fathers. He was anxious 
to secure the means of repentance and a Christian 



58 THE STORY OP MAREE-ANTOINETTE 

death to the wretched sinner, but, at the same time, 
he declared that he would not allow the last sacra- 
ments of the church to be administered to the dy- 
ing man, unless Madame du Barry were previously 
dismissed from the palace. Enraged at this, her 
friends and supporters, headed by the Due d'Aiguil- 
lon, tried to conceal from the King the real nature 
of his malady and the danger of his position. Hap- 
pily, notwithstanding all his vices, the King had 
preserved religious faith and fear of death and judg- 
ment. One of his physicians, probably influenced 
by the King's religious and devoted daughters, ad- 
mitted the truth, which the King anxiously suspected, 
and a priest^ was demanded, imperiously, by the sick 
man, at three o'clock in the morning of the 7th of 
May. He had several interviews with the King, who 
had previously (on the 4th of May) allowed Madame 
du Barry to be removed, the Duchesse d'Aiguillon 
taking her in her own carriage to a country house be- 
longing to the Due d'AiguiUon. There was conse- 
quently no further obstacle to the administration of 
the last rites of the church, which were given to the 
King in the presence of the Archbishop of Paris, 
who had drawn up a declaration, which was read 
aloud previously, in the name of the King, express- 
ing his sorrow and repentance for the scandal of 
his life, and his resolution of amendment if it were 
spared. The King, who seemed deeply impressed, 

1 The Abb6 Maudoux, confessor of Marie-Antoinette, by whom he 
was highly appreciated. 



THE DEATH OF THE KING 59 

then said aloud, "Repeat that," which was done 
before all present. After this public retraction of 
his error, the last rites of the church were then ad- 
ministered to the dying King, who received also the 
viaticum. Shortly afterward his condition became 
more alarming, and it was evident that the end was 
at hand. After an interval of violent delirium he 
recovered consciousness, which he retained to the 
last, showing feelings of repentance. 

The courtiers crowded in the large room called 
"Salle de I'CEil de Boeuf," where they habitually 
awaited the King's pleasure. It was so called from 
a large window, of bull's-eye shape, which distin- 
guished this room from the others. The carriages 
were in readiness to take the royal family to Choisy; 
a lighted candle placed in the window of the King's 
apartment was to be extinguished as the signal for 
departure, which the fear of contagion, in addition 
to other considerations, caused to be impatiently 
expected. 

It was a maxim of old French law that " the 
King never dies." Consequently, when the head 
physician solemnly announced, "Gentlemen, the 
King is dead ! " the response of all present, in ac- 
cordance with time-honored custom, was : " Long 
live the King ! " (" Vive le roi ! ") 

The candle was extinguished ; the great clock was 
stopped at the fatal hour — 3 p. m. 

It was the 10th of May, 1774. The rush of the 
courtiers, with a noise like thunder, as they hastened 



60 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

to pay homage to the new sovereign, was the first 
announcement of the great event to the young heir 
and his wife. 

Louis XVI and Marie- Antoinette burst into tears, 
and with a joint impulse fell on their knees, ex- 
claiming : " Grod help us and protect us ! We are 
too young to reign!" The King was not yet twenty; 
the Queen was in her nineteenth year. 

Madame de Noailles came into the room where 
they had remained together in seclusion and anxious 
expectancy, and, addressing them by their new titles, 
begged them to receive the dignitaries who had come 
to pay homage to the King and Queen. 

The Queen appeared leaning on the King's arm ; 
weeping bitterly, she received the first visits of the 
royal family and the principal officials; but the 
physicians urged the necessity of immediate de- 
parture. The carriages were ready, and the whole 
court set off for Choisy, leaving the wretched remains 
of the late sovereign to the care of servants and 
workmen, who wrapped the corpse in a sheet and 
hastily placed it in a coffin, where the physicians had 
ordered that spirits of wine should be poured. When 
the Due de Villequier, first gentleman in waiting, left 
the late King's room immediately after his death, he 
reminded the first surgeon that his duty obliged him 
to open the body and embalm it. Under the circum- 
stances, this would have entailed certain death. " I 
am ready," replied the surgeon; "but, while I operate, 
you must hold the head; it is the duty of your post." 



PAETICULARS OP THE KING'S DEATH 61 

The duke said no more, and left the room hastily; 
the corpse was not embalmed. The unfortunate 
workman who soldered the lead coffin died within 
twenty-four hours. 

The corpse was taken to St. Denis, the burial-place 
of the kings of France, during the following night, 
with a military escort, followed by the execration of 
the populace loudly expressed on the way. At St. 
Denis it was considered necessary to wall up the 
coffin; for, notwithstanding all the precautions taken, 
the emanations were so dreadful, that danger was 
feared. 

The scandalous reign of Louis XV was ended; 
a new reign was beginning. 

" Le roi est mort ! " 

" Vive le roi ! " 



CHAPTER rv 

The young King and Queen — Marie- Antoinette receives in 
state the great ladies of the land — Difficulties in obtaining 
due respect from the King's brothers and their wives — Too 
much kindness and indulgence — The Queen prepares private 
apartments as a refuge from too much splendor — Her daily 
life — The beauty and grace of the Queen — Etiquette and 
customs — Trianon and its improvements — The Queen's dairy 
— The Queen's extravagant fashions — Tastes of the King — 
His love of hunting — Dangerous influence of the Comte 
d'Artois — Public criticism. 



ANEW reign was beginning, and never, perhaps, 
with more hopes or more general expectations 
of coming prosperity. 

The nation was so weary of the vices of Lonis 
XV, so irritated by the shameless extravagance for 
which they were crushed with taxes and reduced to 
grinding poverty, that anything new and wholly dif- 
ferent from the past was hailed with enthusiastic 
anticipations — in fact, so excessive that they could 
only prove delusive. 

The young King was known to have led hitherto 
an irreproachable life, and to profess the best moral 
and religious principles. Instead of the abandoned 
women who had disgraced the court of his prede- 
cessor, there was now a young and innocent Queen, 



THE YOUNG KING AND QUEEN 63 

of whom little was known, but much was expected, 
without remembering sufficiently her youth and in- 
experience. 

Meanwhile, Madame Adelaide, always ambitious 
and domineering, was striving to estabhsh her in- 
fluence over the King, and began by obtaining from 
his too yielding temper the nomination as prime 
minister of her particular prot6g6, the Comte de 
Maurepas — a choice blamed by all writers on the 
plea of the incapacity and frivohty of the man who 
would now in fact govern France. 

Alarmed by this first success of Madame Adelaide, 
Mercy expatiated on the absolute necessity of the di- 
rect interference of Marie- Antoinette to prevent the 
King from being governed by others, as he would 
certainly be. But the young Queen knew nothing 
of political questions, and cared still less for such 
matters, which she thought insufferably wearisome; 
while even the grave Maria Theresa had misgivings 
as to the propriety of inducing one so young to play 
a part the danger of which her own sagacity foresaw. 

The illness of the three " Mesdames," who had all 
caught the smallpox while attending their father so 
devotedly, pacified Mercy for the time, as the young 
royal family were required to leave Choisy imme- 
diately, for fear of infection. The court removed to 
the small chateau of "La Muette," near Paris,^ and 
here Marie- Antoinette received in state all the ladies 

1 " La Muette " is still to be seen at Passy, hvk the grounds have 
"been much injured by the passage of the Belt Eailway. 



64: THE STORY OF MAKIE-ANTOINETTE 

of the high nobility, who, young and old, came in 
deep mourning to pay homage to the new Queen, 

The occasion was one of great solemnity, and 
Marie- Antoinette, surrounded by her ladies in wait- 
ing, all in sable attire, stood prepared to go through 
the ordeal with due gravity. Unfortunately, the 
habits of familiarity against which her mother had 
so often warned her, but which her easy good-na- 
ture had nevertheless tolerated far too much, in- 
duced one of her ladies, — the Comtesse de Clermont- 
Tonnerre, — who was tired of standing behind the 
Queen, to sit down on the floor, concealed by the 
hoops of the other ladies, and to play the most 
ridiculous and improper tricks during the solemn 
obeisances of the dignified old dowagers who passed 
in turn before her Majesty. The contrast between 
this childish nonsense and the lugubrious solemnity 
of the scene diverted the Queen, so that instead of 
at once stopping what was so obviously improper on 
such an occasion, she laughed several times behind 
her fan, hastily put up by way of an inadequate at- 
tempt at concealment. 

The astonishment and anger of the ladies received 
may be imagined, and were certainly not unnatural 
under the circumstances. All left the palace with 
displeasure, and soon it was reported, even in the 
distant provinces, where the story became a matter 
of tradition, that on her first solemn reception of 
the noble ladies of the land the Queen had burst out 
laughing in their faces! Nothing is a trifle at a 




JMARIE-ADELAIDE DE FRANCE. 



AFTER A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT * CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTING BY JEAN-MARC NATTIER 
IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. 



THE GEEAT LADIES RECEIVED IN STATE 65 

conrt, and this small incident considerably chilled 
the first enthusiasm with which the new reign had 
been welcomed. 

The new King had banished Madame du Barry 
from the court and sent her to a convent, where she 
remained for some time. When partly forgotten 
she was mercifully reinstated in her pretty house at 
Louveciennes, given to her by the late King, and 
was also sufficiently provided for. Marie-Antoi- 
nette, who at first had written harshly of "that 
creature," nevertheless contributed to these more 
indulgent decisions; and to the credit of Madame 
du Barry be it said that she showed the deepest 
gratitude, expressed most humbly. When evil days 
came she wrote to the Queen offering her all she 
possessed in such terms that Marie- Antoinette was 
much moved, although she did not accept the offer .^ 

The royal couple visited in turn the palaces of 
Marly, Compiegne, and Fontainebleau. At Marly 
the King decided on being inoculated with his 
brothers, as a preservative against smallpox. This 
resolution caused considerable alarm, inoculation 
being still a novelty in France; happily, success 
was complete, and all anxiety was quickly dispelled. 

Louis XVI was not devoid of the sentimental ten- 
dencies of the period, notwithstanding his rough 

1 Madame du Barry was guillotined during the Revolution ; and it 
was noted that she was the only woman who wept and begged for 
mercy on the scaffold. Her screams and entreaties were so dreadful 
that even the populace was moved; but she was forced on the plank 
while still imploring " one minute more." 

6 



66 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

manners and unromantic exterior. He began by 
declaring that the title of "brother" was what he 
valued most ; that his brothers and sisters were not 
to use the word "Majesty" in addressing him, but 
that he was to be called "Mon frere." The Queen, 
according to etiquette, addressed him as "Mon- 
sieur." He soon discovered, however, that the princes 
were only too much disposed to assume equality, 
and that in the case of the Comte d'Artois especially 
it would not be easy to enforce due respect. The 
Queen also found that her sisters-in-law neglected 
to pay court to her at the usual hours, and that 
her carelessness in claiming the privileges of her 
rank caused omission of proper deference. Natur- 
ally haughty, the Queen felt sharply any intentional 
slight, and showed her displeasure by increase of 
pride in her demeanor, which was resented by the 
princesses. A further degree of coolness was pro- 
voked by the King^s discovery of the double-dealing 
of the Comte and Comtesse de Provence, revealed by 
their letters found among the papers of the late 
King. There was consequently some amount of un- 
pleasant feeling in the royal family at the time of 
the general return to Versailles in September, which 
marked the beginning of the purely o£B.cial position 
and duties of each. 

The King occupied the apartments of his prede- 
cessor ; the Queen retained her own, but caused sev- 
eral back rooms to be prepared for her private use, 
as a relief from the inconvenient splendor of the 



PRIVATE APARTMENTS AS A REFUGE 67 

state apartments, too large and lofty for comfort. 
These reserved rooms, which are still shown, look on 
a dark and dreary inner com't ; certainly, in modern 
times few private gentlewomen would be satisfied 
with such a retreat. But they were more homelike 
and seemed more her own property than the royal 
abode devoted to the queens of France, where she 
was subjected to all the inconveniences attending a 
too exalted position. Marie-Antoinette had these 
inner rooms comfortably furnished in white silk 
brocaded with colored flowers. Here she placed her 
harp, her embroidery frame, her harpsichord, and 
her work-table; and here she received her favorite 
courtiers. The mornings, however, were spent in 
the Queen's official bedchamber, and devoted to all 
the obligations of etiquette. 

The King rose early, and at the appointed hour 
the lady of the bedchamber in waiting watched his 
departure, to bolt the door after his exit till the time 
came to awaken the Queen. In the bedchamber the 
door may still be seen leading to a dark passage, 
lighted by lamps night and day, through which the 
King could go privately to his own apartments. 
The Queen was usually awakened at eight o'clock; 
the lady in waiting then presented to her a book 
containing patterns of all her dresses, with a small 
portion of the trimmings annexed, and a pincushion, 
from which the Queen took pins to mark the dresses 
chosen for the day — the full court dress, worn at the 
daily mass, always attended in ceremony ; the after- 



68 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

noon deshabille for her private apartments; and the 
evening dress. The Queen had twelve of each kind 
for each season, summer and winter; those of muslin 
and lawn, afterward adopted, did not figure in the 
official list. What had been worn on the previous 
day was gathered up in silk wrappers and taken to 
the wardrobe department, from which all that the 
Queen had chosen for the day was brought in 
the same fashion, with the linen required, called the 
iwet (literally, "in readiness"). An extra provision 
of linen, called en cas^ was also brought separately, 
"in case" the Queen should wish for a change dur- 
ing the day. The term en cas was also given to 
a basket of refreshments brought every evening, "in 
case" nourishment should be required during the 
night. This basket contained a bowl of broth, a cold 
roast chicken, etc., with bottles of wine, orgeat, and 
lemonade. The clothes which had been removed to 
the wardrobe department were laid on long tables, 
where they were pulled out, carefully wiped, and 
folded before being put away in the large wardrobes. 
When these important matters had been settled 
the Queen rose and proceeded to perform her toilet ; 
on bath days, which occurred several times a week, 
the bath was usually wheeled into the room, with all 
that was required, and followed by two bathing- 
women who attended the Queen. She wore a flannel 
bathing-gown, and usually breakfasted in the bath, 
the tray being placed on the cover. When she did 
not bathe she either breakfasted in bed or even 



HER DAILY LIFE 6b 

standing after she had risen. She usually took 
coffee, and sometimes chocolate, with a particular 
kind of roll to which she had been accustomed in 
Vienna. Marie-Antoinette seemed to care for no 
particular food except her morning coffee and her 
favorite rolls. When the Queen had taken her bath 
she was wrapped in a white silk mantle over a long 
night-dress, and returned to her bed, which had been 
previously warmed ; then, taking her tapestry work, 
she received what was called les petites entrees, or the 
officials who had the privilege of being admitted at 
that time, such as her physicians and those attached 
to the King's person, her reader (the Abbe de Ver- 
mond), her private secretary, some of the King's 
attendants, ete. Often ten or twelve courtiers were 
together in the room during these morning inter- 
views. 

At noon occurred the official toilet, when the dress- 
ing-table was drawn into the middle of the room and 
the princesses with other privileged ladies were ad- 
mitted.^ The lady of the highest rank present had 
the right of dressing the Queen. The story is well 
known of her being obliged to stand shivering with 
cold in scanty raiment on a winter morning while 
her most necessary clothing was handed with due 
ceremonial from one princess to another as they 
came in succession, each one being of higher rank 
than her predecessor ! 

"When dressed and seated at her dressing-table, 

1 This was called les grandes entries. 



70 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

while the last touches were given to her toilet, the 
gentlemen were admitted; and at the beginning of 
every month the money of her privy purse was 
placed on her dressing-table in gold pieces deposited 
in a white kid bag embroidered with gold. The 
Queen said a few gracious words to the courtiers 
whom she wished to honor; but soon the hour of 
the King's mass summoned her, and stepping into 
the center of the room, the suite took their places 
around her as in state she crossed the adjoining 
" Salon de la Paix " and the long " Galerie des 
Glaces," where she met the King leaving his apart- 
ments with the same ceremony. In those days, when 
monarchs had not learned to live in perpetual dread 
of assassination, any well-dressed people were ad- 
mitted into the palace, and could stand in the "G-a- 
lerie des Glaces" while the royal family passed 
through on their way to the chapel where mass in 
music was sung every day. The Queen on these 
occasions looked, according to the mythological 
language of the time, "like a goddess among her 
nymphs," as with the peculiar grace which marked 
her every motion she glided through the long gal- 
lery, an ideal of royal beauty, as all her contempo- 
raries have borne witness. The little school-girl who 
four years before had appeared as a mere child in 
the court ceremonies had now gi'own into a majestic 
and beautiful woman, above the ordinary height of 
her French ladies, and magnificently proportioned. 
Her features had not the classic perfection which 



THE BEAUTY AND GEACE OF THE ^UEEN 71 

afterward claaracterized the beauty of the Empress 
Eugenie: the face was too narrow for regularity; the 
nose, although slender and delicately formed, was too 
marked and too aquiline; the Austrian pouting under- 
lip was too developed. But these slight defects were 
forgotten in the brilliancy of her whole appearance : 
her exquisite complexion, which was disfigured rather 
than heightened by the circular patch of rouge which 
etiquette prescribed as an indispensable part of the 
court dress; her golden hah', of a soft, pale shade, 
which could be discerned through the powder so 
universally worn at that time; her bright and gra- 
cious smile, which lighted up the dignified face, so 
queenlike in its sweetness. The lines of her grace- 
ful neck as it rose from her shoulders, the turn of 
her head, her whole attitude — all were indescribably 
royal and peculiar to herself; no other French queen 
is quoted as possessing the same characteristics to 
the same degree, and no other woman could captivate 
attention in the presence of Marie- Antoinette. 

But alas for the King! What a disappointment 
when his subjects saw for the first time a sovereign 
of absolutely plebeian aspect, with the rough hands 
of a mechanic, a shambling gait, disordered hair, 
which no hairdresser could manage to keep in pre- 
sentable condition, a loud, coarse laugh, a harsh and 
unmusical voice ! No greater contrast could be im- 
agined than what was seen in the husband and wife. 

The King and Queen passed down the gallery 
between the rows of spectators, stopping here and 



72 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

there to say a word to those known or presented to 
them, and then heard mass in the chapel. After 
mass they dined together; the Queen hated the 
public dinner, and insisted upon the latter ordeal 
being limited to Sundays, when she only appeared 
at the dinner-table, and afterward dined quietly in 
her private apartments. The King ate voraciously 
on all occasions; the Queen had a small appetite, 
and was utterly indifferent to her fare, generally 
taking only a small share of roast or boiled chicken, 
and plain biscuits for sweets. She drank only water, 
and that of Versailles being of bad quality, a supply 
was brought daily for her use from a spring at Ville 
d'Avray, which was reputed to be the best in the 
neighborhood. 

After dinner the Queen retired to her own apart- 
ments, where she took off her hoop and heavy court 
dress, which she exchanged for more convenient 
attire — Sundays excepted, for she then attended 
vespers in the afternoon with the same state as 
for the mass. 

On her return, she received the ladies presented 
on their marriage, who were required by etiquette 
to bend down so low in their obeisance as to kiss 
the edge of her dress; but this latter homage she 
always gracefully prevented by a motion of her fan. 

On other days, when she did not follow the King's 
hunt, which took place three times a week, she gener- 
ally remained in her private rooms, where she re- 
ceived a certain number of privileged friends, of 



ETIQUETTE AND CUSTOMS 73 

whom her attendant ladies had a list. She played 
on the harp or the pianoforte ; sometimes the Abbe 
de Vermond induced her to listen to what he called 
"reasonable reading," which she heartily disliked 
and usually rejected after her new dignity had 
given her increased authority to choose her employ- 
ments. She never reached real proficiency on any 
instrument, but played easily at sight, and liked to 
read music. Her favorite recreation, however, was 
chatting with her visitors, always on trifling sub- 
jects, in which mere gossip had a large share. Mercy 
and the Abbe de Yermond both lament over the 
frivolity of her life, and the continual waste of time 
in which she indulged, but it was now useless to 
remonstrate. In the evening, after dressing for the 
occasion, came the court circle, the card-playing, 
which afterward assumed great importance, and the 
supper, where the Queen showed the same indiffer- 
ence as at dinner. She usually took broth, the wing 
of a chicken, and some trifling small cake. 

On the days when, after hunting, the King took 
supper at the lodge of Saint-Hubert, the Queen was 
present — an innovation suggested by Mercy. Pre- 
viously etiquette restricted the Queen and the prin- 
cesses from admitting men to their table; this had 
caused great mischief during the reign of Louis XV, 
by inducing considerable license which the presence 
of royal ladies restrained. 

The Queen found no enjoyment in the walks and 
drives which she could take in the park of Ver- 



74 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

sailles, with its terraces and parterres open to the 
burning sun, and its long, formal avenues, shady, 
but monotonous. The country outside was still less 
agreeable, for etiquette required that the royal car- 
riages should go at full gallop over paved roads, 
and necessarily in a cloud of dust. Marie-Antoi- 
nette longed for a small house of her own, where 
she could enjoy the liberty of a private individual 
in gardens of her own arrangement, and go about 
freely without the necessity of being followed wher- 
ever she went by two ladies in full court dress. 

In the outskirts of the park of Versailles was a 
small palace called " Trianon," built by Louis XIV 
for summer relaxation. Adjoining this was an un- 
pretending villa, which in modern days would be 
considered insufficient for the needs of a wealthy 
private gentleman, but which Louis XV had begun 
to build for the use of Madame de Pompadour, who 
died before it was completed. Finally, under the 
name of "Le Petit Trianon," it was finished for 
Madame du Barry. Here Louis XV held festivities 
and suppers, where, as Mercy would have said " the 
rules of propriety were not scrupulously observed." 
Even the servants were not admitted; a table al- 
ready prepared rose through an opening in the floor, 
the traces of which can still be seen. As may be 
supposed, "Le Petit Trianon" was not in good repute, 
and it is perhaps worthy of regret that Louis XVI 
should have given it as a toy to the Queen, enabhng 
her thus to satisfy her wish for " a house of her own " 



TRIANON AND ITS IMPROVEMENTS .75 

— the bad doings of Trianon seeming to cast their 
shadow over her by associating her name with scan- 
dalous remembrances. But this objection did not 
seem to strike any of those concerned, and Marie- 
Antoinette with great delight proceeded to prepare 
the " Petit Trianon " for her own use, and to lay out 
the gardens surrounding it according to her own 
fancy. The little paradise that she thus created has 
been carefully preserved to this day, and the memory 
of the unfortunate Queen seems inseparable from the 
place which she loved so much. 

Louis XV had left the finances of the state in a 
woeful condition, and the ministers urged the abso- 
lute necessity of strict economy, with reforms in the 
abuses of the court. But neither Louis XVI nor 
Marie- Antoinette had any idea of the value of money 
or of the meaning of the word " economy." They had 
never managed their own affairs nor been initiated 
in those of the state, of which Louis XVI had about 
as clear an idea as might be attributed to the sons of 
the Great Mogul. The households of the princes and 
princesses were absurdly numerous, and in every re- 
spect it was desirable that they should be reduced ; 
but any attempt at reform caused a general outcry 
and protestations from those concerned, which the 
good-natured and timorous King could not resist. 
He could not bear the thought that under his reign 
people should be less favored than under that of his 
grandfather, and be obliged to give up what th^y 
had hitherto enjoyed. 



76 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

Marie- Antoinette began the improvements at Tri- 
anon as if she had the purse of a fairy-tale at her 
disposal. Although there was nothing particularly- 
luxurious, yet everything was to be so completely al- 
tered that great expense was unavoidable. She wished 
for what was called an " English " garden, — in fact, an 
inclosed piece of landscape, — and the straight walks, 
the flat ground of the primitive gardens, must be en- 
tirely changed. An artificial lake was created, in 
which she was to have the enjoyment of fishing; she 
had beautiful undulating lawns, rare shrubs and 
trees, a rivulet, an island, and rustic bridges leading to 
temples. The works of Florian and especially those 
of Eousseau had induced a sentimental passion for 
what was supposed to be country life — the sort of 
country life where lambs are as well washed as lap- 
dogs, and dairies have white marble tables and china 
bowls. Such was the dairy of Marie- Antoinette, 
which is still shown to visitors. Here she helped 
to churn butter and to make cheese; cows were 
milked in her presence, and she drank the new milk 
with delight. It is gravely stated by writers of the 
time that during the visit to Choisy after the death 
of the late King, the "sensibility" of the good-natured 
but heavy Louis XVI had been "gi-eatly moved" by 
seeing the Queen and princesses eating strawberries 
and cream under the green trees ! This instance of 
"sensibility" on the part of one whose obtuse nature 
had at least the merit of plain common-sense gives 
some idea of the sentimental nonsense which char- 



TRIANON AND ITS IMPROVEMENTS 77 

aeterized the period, and by which poor Marie- Antoi- 
nette was so much influenced. But to procure all 
these country pleasures satisfactorily, she must have 
a farm, to which she added a mill that worked in 
earnest; and the delight of seeing the wheel go round 
may be imagined. Then, to complete rustic delu- 
sions, she built a Swiss village, with the house of 
the lord of the manor, of the lailli, the cure, etc., 
twelve in all. Some guide-books assert that these 
houses were inhabited by real peasantry whom the 
Queen established there, but this is absolutely con- 
tradicted by trustworthy writers ; with the exception 
of a gardener and a keeper, no one lived in these 
make-believe dwellings, which may still be seen near 
the lake of " Le Petit Trianon." 

There were also a grotto lined with green moss, 
flowers in profusion, and walks bordered by rose- 
trees. When the improvements were finished, which 
required several years, the whole was indeed 
a triumph of prettiness — a toy, but the most 
attractive that could be imagined There is 
still about it something delightfully old-fashioned 
and quaint, — a French version of Goldsmith's 
poem, — which seems to recall the perfume found in 
some old eighteenth-century cabinet known to our 
childhood. 

A weeping-willow by the lake was planted by 
Marie- Antoinette, whose memory haunts the place. 
Her last happy days were spent under the trees of 
Trianon, where at every turn the visitor almost ex- 



78 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

pects to see the bright vision of a past which is 
there living still and apparently so real. 

The house finished for Madame du Barry has 
too much that bears the stamp of what would be 
gladly forgotten, although Marie- Antoinette tried to 
transform it. The balustrade of the staircase bears 
her initials, but the first rooms on entering the 
house are decorated too suggestively with quivers, 
roses, and significant mythological emblems. The 
apartments especially used by Marie- Antoinette are 
adorned with wreaths and bouquets of wild flowers 
carved on the panels, separated by a device of lilies 
(the royal flower) woven with laurel. The wood- 
work was originally painted a soft sea-green, the 
flowers white and gold, relieved by hangings of a 
deep crimson bordered with gold. A few articles 
of furniture belonging to the period, some with 
the combined initials of Louis and Marie- Antoinette, 
have been placed in the rooms, which the Queen 
seems to have just left. 

The bedchamber, which is small and unpretend- 
ing, has a bed ^ richly embroidered in colored silks, 
out of which the crown, worked on the counterpane, 
was taken during the Eevolution, leaving the marks 
of the stitches. In the time of Marie- Antoinette 
the window-curtains and other hangings were ot 
muslin embroidered in colored silk. 

Such was the tiny palace of Trianon, which had 

1 This bed was used by Marie-Antomette, but not at Trianon, where 
the coverlet and curtains were of blue silk. 



THE QUEEN'S EXTEAVAGANT FASHIONS 79 

no excess of luxury in itself, but whicli was the 
cause of great expense at a time when every one 
felt the necessity of reforms and economy. The 
sums actually spent on Trianon and its gardens 
were spread over several years, and their amount 
has been greatly exaggerated, but the effect pro- 
duced was unfavorable, and criticisms began to be 
murmured. Moreover, Marie-Antoinette, who had 
been "badly dressed" as Dauphine, was now de- 
termined to be well dressed as Queen, and to follow 
in this respect her own fancies. The Duchesse de 
Chartres had, unfortunately, introduced to her notice 
a celebrated milliner of the time, called Mile. Bertin. 
Hitherto queens of France had never been in direct 
communication with their tradespeople ; but Marie- 
Antoinette would allow no one to come between 
herself and Mile. Bertin, who became her favorite 
counselor as regards matters of dress and fashion. 
Of course the milliner took advantage of her posi- 
tion to favor her own private interests, with the 
consequence of leading the young Queen into ex- 
aggeration and extravagance in following what was 
called "la mode." Hours were spent in these im- 
portant discussions with Mile. Bertin, whom she 
freely admitted to her private apartments. The 
Empress, her mother, much displeased at all she 
heard, vainly tried to remonstrate, saying that the 
public papers were full of particulars on the ex- 
travagant height of her head-dresses and the excess 
with which she followed exaggerated fashions. The 



80 TEE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

young Queen carelessly answered that nothing of 
all this seemed extraordinary in France ; that every 
one wore what her mother criticized, and was quite 
accustomed to such fashions. It was only too true, 
unfortunately, that her example was followed by the 
young women of the day, who were thus led into ex- 
cessive expenses, as her mother foresaw. The Queen 
was held responsible by public opinion, and incurred 
considerable blame in consequence. 

The tastes of the King were quite opposed to 
those of the Queen, although he was always indul- 
gent and kind in tolerating — nay, even encourag- 
ing — her fancies. His own were limited to what 
enabled him to expend his superabundant physical 
energy in violent exercise. He established a forge 
on the top floor of the palace, where he worked lust- 
ily with a locksmith,^ who taught him his trade, and 
treated him as roughly as he would have done in 
the case of an ordinary apprentice. When suffi- 
ciently tired of this hard manual labor, he went out 
by a trap-door on the flat roof of the palace, where 
his delight was to walk about among the chimney- 
pots, and where he had established a telescope 
which enabled him to watch all that went on in 
the courtyards and avenues leading to his royal 
residence. When he met with masons or plasterers 
doing repairs he turned up his sleeves and worked 
heartily with them, to the great injury of his clothes 

1 This man, named Gamain, afterward became a revolutionist, and 
betrayed, the King's confidence in the most unworthy manner. 




THE TEMPLE OF LOVE, VERSAILLES. 




THE DAIRY AND TOWER OF MARLBOROUGH, VERSAILLES. 



TASTES OF THE KING 81 

and hands, whose condition often irritated the re- 
fined, delicate Queen beyond control. When he re- 
turned to his private apartments he was not averse 
to quiet and serious occupation; he liked to read 
historical works, travels, everything relating to 
geography, and was fond of preparing maps. In 
one of the rooms belonging to his apartments a 
brass line, crossing the floor diagonally, represents 
the meridian of Paris, and was laid down under the 
direction of Louis XVI, and according to his calcula- 
tion. Two or three times a week he went hunting, 
a taste which in his case amounted to a passion, and 
was gratified by tearing over the country at reckless 
speed, without caring for danger. Sometimes he 
returned for the usual supper at Versailles; when 
the hunt was prolonged he went to Saint-Hubert, 
where the Queen often followed him. Being tired 
and hungry, he fully satisfied his hearty appetite, and 
then fell asleep in the carriage which took him back 
to his royal home. When he alighted on reaching 
the palace, being still half asleep, he staggered, and 
his attendants were obliged to assist him as he went 
up-stairs, with the result of causing rumors that he 
came back in a state of intoxication. This suppo- 
sition seems to have been wholly undeserved in his 
case, but the guards and servants who remembered 
the excesses of the late King were not unnaturally 
inclined to such suspicions. 

The King hated late hours and worldly dissi- 
pation, of which the Queen never seemed to have 



82 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

enough. A continual whirl of amusements seemed 
necessary to prevent her from falling into melan- 
choly and depression. She had an affectionate 
heart, and had tried sincerely to love the King. 
But at this time she could not do so; his coarse, 
plebeian nature, now so completely revealed, filled 
her with repulsion. His tastes, so different from 
hers, estranged him from her ; they saw but httle of 
each other, and he had never been demonstrative. 
She had nothing to fill her empty life, and her one 
aim seemed to be the banishment of all serious 
thought. Her sister-in-law, the Comtesse d'Artois, 
had hopes of maternity; she had not, and she had 
no interest capable of filling her heart or satisfying 
her mind. She vainly rushed from one amusement 
to another; notwithstanding the distance from 
Paris, and the severe winter weather, she continu- 
ally went there to the opera and to theaters, of 
course returning at late hours. She had balls at Ver- 
sailles, and especially favored those in which fancy 
dresses were introduced; preparing quadrilles in 
various costumes, with fancy dances, spending con- 
siderable time in superintending rehearsals, and set- 
tling all matters belonging to these festivities. The 
King made no objection, and was always willing to 
allow her to do as she pleased, provided he were not 
required to participate in such amusements. In ac- 
cordance with this system, he made the fatal mistake 
of allowing her to attend the Opera masked balls 
without a sufficient suite, and to go about far too 



DANGEROUS INFLUENCE OF THE COMTE D'AETOIS 83 

freely with the Comte d'Artois, whose habits were 
not such as to induce any confidence in his tact and 
discretion. The Queen drove alone with him in 
new-fashioned light carriages, which were consid- 
ered of too masculine a stamp for court decorum, 
and which her easy thoughtlessness preferred to the 
ponderous vehicles hitherto used by royalty, with 
their necessary escort and attendants. The Opera 
balls were, however, certainly the most objection- 
able among the Queen's fancies; for although fre- 
quented by the nobUity of the time, and of a better 
stamp than the modern saturnalia known under that 
name, still, being public, the Queen was thrown into 
a medley crowd where she met people of the least 
respectable class, with whom she ought never to 
have been in contact. The Queen remained late, 
and the distance being considerable, she conse- 
quently did not reach Versailles till the early morn- 
ing hours, while her husband and natural protector 
had been comfortably in bed and asleep since eleven 
of the preceding night. All this was more than friv- 
olous, and should never have been permitted, as the 
Queen's reputation suffered in consequence. Not 
that she was ever led into any really wrong act, but 
she was nevertheless freely criticized as too light 
and inconsiderate for a queen of France. 

Not unnaturally, her aunts, the " Mesdames," were 
shocked, and Madame Adelaide spoke seriously to 
the King on the subject of the Queen's imprudent 
follies. For this she really could not be blamed; but 



84 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

as the King silenced her, and no improvement took 
place, the "Mesdames" expressed their feelings freely 
in their circle, which became a focns of opposition 
' against the Queen, and of gossip which spread out- 
side the court with the exaggeration usual in such 
cases. 



CHAPTER V 

The King's coronation — A painful crown — A royal brother — 
Blunders of an archduke — An imprudent correspondence — 
The Queen's likes and dislikes — Intimacy with the Princesse 
de Lamballe — The King's sledges — Danger in diamond 
bracelets — Eeprimands and prophecies of Maria Theresa — 
Marriage of Madame Clotilde — The Queen described by 
Horace Walpole — Intimacy with the Princesse de Gu6m.6n6e. 



THE King's coronation, which took place at Rheims 
with all the medieval ceremonies, revived loyalty 
for a time; and the "sensibility" shown by the Queen, 
who was merely present without sharing the honors 
of the day, interested the spectators, and caused a 
revival of the enthusiasm shown in the first days of 
the new reign. When the "twelve peers" held the 
crown of Charlemagne above the head of the mon- 
arch, dming a burst of appropriate music, till the 
archbishop who officiated took it and solemnly 
crowned him, the Queen was so completely overcome 
that she was obliged to leave her seat for a few min- 
utes till she was able to recover her seK-possession. 
In those days of fine feelings carried even to affec- 
tation, this natural betrayal of real emotion could 
not but be welcome ; and when, after the ceremony, 
the King and Queen appeared together in public, 



86 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

their reception by the people was as hearty as they 
could wish. 

The superstitious had, however, remarked that 
when the crown was secured on his head Louis XVI 
said : " It is painful to me." It was indeed destined 
to become a crown of thorns! But Marie- Antoinette 
had no sad forebodings, and the glorious ceremony of 
the coronation left her only feelings of joyful triumph. 

"What a day was that of the coronation!" she 
writes to her mother. "While I live I can never 
forget it." 

The visit of her brother the Archduke Maximilian 
soon followed to diversify the monotonous though 
incessant pleasures of her life. He was accompanied 
by one of her mother's most trusted friends and coun- 
selors, the Comte de Rosenberg. Marie- Antoinette, 
delighted to see an old friend and to revive the recol- 
lections of her childhood, was, as usual, incautious 
and far too confiding in her intercourse with Rosen- 
berg. On the other hand, she was anxious to receive 
her brother with due honor, and she could not but 
recognize how completely the young Prince made 
himself ridiculous in the sight of the Parisians, who 
are not indulgent in such cases. Among other in- 
stances of foolish speeches, it was related that when 
he visited the Jardin des Plantes, and Buffon pre- 
sented him with a copy of his great work, the Arch- 
duke refused it, sajdng graciously that he would "be 
sorry to deprive him of it." The Queen felt such 
blunders keenly, but was only the more determined to 



BLUNDERS OF AN ARCHDUKE 87 

support her brother. The Archduke traveled incog. 
and consequently could not claim the honors due 
to his rank, yet he absolutely refused to visit the 
princes of the blood royal, and expected all deference 
from them, which they would not show unless the 
first act of courtesy came from the Austrian prince 
himself. The Queen took his part warmly, and spoke 
sharply to the French princes. " The King has 
treated the Archduke as a brother, and invited him 
to supper in his private apartments with the royal 
family — an honor to which I do not suppose that 
you would pretend. My brother will be sorry not to 
know the princes; but he is here for a short time, 
he has a great deal to see, and he must give up the 
prospect." 

The princes would not yield, and did not attend the 
festivities in honor of the Archduke, which cost large 
sums, — more than a hundred thousand francs, but re- 
port said six hundred thousand, — which were consid- 
ered to be wasted upon the Archduke, whom nobody 
liked. The princes of the blood were highly ap- 
proved by public opinion for their resistance to 
Austrian pretensions. The Due d'Orleans, the Prince 
de Conde, and the Prince de Conti, retired to their 
country houses, while their sons, more boldly, went 
about publicly in Paris by way of bravado during 
the festivities at Versailles, and were loudly cheered. 
All French sympathy was with the Bourbon princes 
against the silly, haughty Austrian who was, unfor- 
tunately, the Queen's brother. 



88 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

The Queen herseK was proudly imprudent in the 
speeches which she carelessly uttered without realiz- 
ing the terrible importance of the impression pro- 
duced. On one occasion, when Madame de Koailles 
was wearying her with some minute questions of 
etiquette, bringing forward the example of the late 
Queen, Marie- Antoinette answered impatiently: 
" Settle all that as you please, Madame ; you really 
cannot expect that a queen of France, born an arch- 
duchess of Austria, should attach the same impor- 
tance to minute details as a Polish princess who 
became a queen." Of com'se this imprudent speech 
was repeated, and the effect on the "Mesdames" of 
the carelessly contemptuous allusion to their mother 
may be imagined. 

Marie- Antoinette was also reported to have said 
that there was no "real nobility" in France, meaii- 
ing that they were not exempt from the stain of 
mesalliance, which, according to German theories, is 
sufficient to destroy a whole pedigree. But the great 
families of Montmorency, Eohan, Noailles, Bauffre- 
mont, and others, were not inclined to accept such 
a sweeping assertion, and considered that they were 
inferior to no nobility in Europe, while they deeply 
resented the opinion expressed by the young Queen — 
the "Austrian," as she was already termed — with con- 
siderable bitterness. 

Marie- Antoinette was unfortunately both thought- 
less and inconsiderate, often speaking at random 
and giving her confidence too easily. When her 



AN IMPEUDENT COBEESPONDENCE 89 

brother Maximilian had returned to Vienna, she 
wrote to the Comte de Rosenberg with a degree of 
freedom which greatly displeased the Empress, her 
mother, to whom Rosenberg gave the letters to read. 
In one she says: "Yon know Paris and Versailles; 
yon have seen and judged. If I required an apolo- 
gist, I should trust to you for that. I would candidly 
acknowledge more than you say; for instance, my 
tastes are not the same as those of the King, who 
cares only for field sports and mechanics. You will 
acknowledge that I would have little grace near a 
forge ; I could not play the part of Vulcan, and that 
of Venus might displease him much more than my 
tastes, which he does not disapprove." 

The imprudent style of this letter requires no com- 
ment. But a second letter produced a still worse 
impression on the mind of her wise mother. The 
one idea of Marie- Antoinette, after the accession of 
her husband to the throne of France, had been the 
recall of Choiseul, to which the King would not con- 
sent. She, however, obtained leave for him to ap- 
pear at the court ; but he felt the insecurity of his 
position so completely that he had ordered post- 
horses to be in readiness to take him back to his 
country house of Chanteloup. The Queen received 
him most graciously, expressing her pleasure at his 
return, and her satisfaction at having contributed to 
it. The King only said roughly : " You have aged, 
Monsieur de Choiseul: you are stouter, and you have 
grown bald." In the circle of that evening the King 



90 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

said significantly: "When people have pleasant 
country-houses of their own, the best thing they can 
do is to remain there." Choiseul took the hint, and 
returned to Chanteloup. The Queen tried in vain to 
reinstate him in his position as minister. The King, 
who was in one of what the courtiers called "his 
butting moods," said harshly : " I will hear no more 
about that man." Baffled on this point, Marie- An- 
toinette carried out her will, however, in getting rid 
of d'Aiguillon, who was banished to his country-seat; 
and at the coronation, where Choiseul must needs 
come to pay homage, she managed to have an inter- 
view with him, which she thus relates to Rosenberg: 

" I am obliged to go back to the departure of Mon- 
sieur d'Aiguillon to give you a full account of my 
conduct. That departure was entirely my work. . . . 
I asked the King to send him away. True, I would 
not have a lettre de cachet; but he lost nothing by 
this, for instead of staying in Touraine, as he wished, 
he was requested to continue his journey as far as 
Aiguillon in Grascony. 

" You have perhaps heard of the audience I gave 
to the Due de Choiseul at Rheims. So much was said 
about it that I should not be surprised if old Mam-e- 
pas had feared to have to take his rest in his own 
home. You will easily believe that I did not see him ^ 
without speaking about it to the King, but you will 
not guess the adroitness that I used so as not to 
seem to ask leave. I told him that I wished to see 

1 Choiseul, 



AN IMPRUDENT COERESPONDENCE 91 

Monsieur de Choiseul, and that I saw no difficulty 
except as to the choice of the day. I managed so 
well that the poor man^ himself settled the most con- 
venient time for me to see him. I think that I used 
sufficiently my rights as a wife on that occasion. 

"At last we have got rid of Monsieur de la Vril- 
liere. ^ Although he is hard of hearing, he neverthe- 
less heard enough to understand that it was time to 
go, or the door would be shut in his face. Monsieur 
de Malesherbes will fill his place." 

Maria Theresa was shocked at this letter, saying 
to Mercy : " It has gone to my very heart. My anx- 
iety is fully justified. She is rushing to her ruin, 
and she may be considered as only too fortunate if, 
in her destruction, she preserves the virtues apper- 
taining to her rank." 

This judgment is characteristically severe. But 
when the fate of the unfortunate Marie- Antoinette 
is remembered, the prophecy becomes startling. 

With so many amiable and lovable points in her 
character, an amount of levity which in private life 
would assume but small importance in the case of 
one so young was sufficient in her high position to 
surround her with enemies whom she despised, — 
fondly imagining that an " archduchess of Austria " 
was so far above their malevolence that she was be- 
yond the reach of their intrigues, — and who yet suc- 
ceeded far beyond their anticipations, and probably 
their intentions, in throwing her over the precipice 

1 The King. 2 One of the ministers. 



92 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

toward which she blindly "rushed," as her mother 
said. 

In almost every letter the prudent Empress warns 
her against interfering to procure favors and official 
posts for her particular proteges. 

But Marie- Antoinette would not be schooled. She 
was good-natured and warm-hearted ; she wished to 
please those whom she liked; and she did not realize 
that in favoring some she might be unjust to others. 
The Due de Fitz- James was the father of the Prin- 
cesse de Chimay, one of her ladies-in-waiting; and 
for this sole reason, without any particular merit of 
his own, she entreated the King to raise him to the 
supreme dignity of marshal of France. The King 
consented, but met with considerable opposition from 
the Minister of War, who objected strongly on the 
ground that several generals had higher claims. The 
King then withdrew his proposal ; but he had given 
a promise to the Queen, and a great outcry was raised 
around her to oblige him to keep his word, the Due 
de Fitz-James having fully expected his appoint- 
ment. The King tried to satisfy all parties by 
naming six marshals besides the Due de Fitz-James ; 
but this lavishing of honors which ought to be 
bestowed sparingly made fresh mischief by casting 
ridicule on the whole. The seven marshals were 
called the " Seven Deadly Sins," while satirical 
verses and songs were handed about, in which the 
Queen was not spared. 

Marie-Antoinette was equally vehement in her 



THE QUEEN'S LIKES AND DISLIKES 93 

likes and dislikes. One of her familiar coui-tiers, 
the Comte de Guines, who had been appointed am- 
bassador to England, was accused of serious mis- 
demeanor in having favored smuggling under cover 
of the embassy, and having speculated in the funds 
through abuse of state secrets. The facts were 
proved, and Monsieur de Guines, who tried to throw 
the blame on his secretary, was prosecuted and 
called to trial before the Parliament. The Queen 
took his part with great warmth, so that she looked 
upon his adversaries as if they were her own, and 
was supposed to have greatly influenced the verdict 
of acquittal which he finally obtained after legal dis- 
cussions that were prolonged during several years. 
This again was much blamed in the general world, 
where the conclusion was drawn that the Queen's 
pleasure could influence the judges to the degree 
of injuring public justice. 

Marie- Antoinette had become intimate with the 
Princesse de Lamballe, of the royal house of Savoy, 
who had been most unhappily married to the prof- 
ligate son of the Due de Penthi^vre, father also of 
the Duchesse de Chartres, afterward Duchesse d'Or- 
leans. The young Princesse de Lamballe soon lost 
her husband, which event no one could consider as 
a calamity, and remained a young widow in the 
house of her father-in-law, toward whom she played 
the part of a devoted daughter. The Princesse de 
Lamballe was extremely pretty; she had what is 
called a "sweet" face, without much intellect, but 



94 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

gentle and interesting. Her sacrificed life and lier 
painful position aroused all the Queen's sympathy, 
and for some time the Princesse held the position of 
favorite friend, being seen with the Queen wherever 
she went. The winter was severe, with abundant 
snow. Marie- Antoinette, delighted to recall the pas- 
times of her childish days at Vienna, had sledges 
prepared, in which she flew over the frosted ground 
with the Princesse, who, fair and fresh as a rose un- 
der her rich furs, looked like spring itself in mid- 
winter. Of course every one tried to imitate the 
Queen, and the great ladies vied with each other in 
the painting and gilding with which the sledges were 
adorned. Louis XVI would not indulge in this new 
fancy ; but, understanding the sufferings of the poor 
in such severe weather, he ordered carts of fuel to be 
distributed to those in need. 

" Gentlemen, here are my sledges," he said gravely, 
addressing the courtiers, as he watched the line of 
carts passing before the palace. 

Marie-Antoinette was equally kind-hearted and 
charitable, but less thoughtful when necessities were 
not brought in a direct manner to her notice. She 
was carried away by a whirl of incessant amusement, 
for which it must unhappily be acknowledged that 
she lavished money in such a manner that she had 
none left for the claims of charity. 

Shortly after her accession to the throne a jeweler 
named Boehmer, who afterward played an impor- 
tant part in the lamentable intrigue known as that of 



DANGER IN DIAMOND BRACELETS 95 

the " Queen^s necklace," had brought to Marie- An- 
toinette a pair of diamond earrings of great splendor, 
for which he asked 600,000 francs. The Qneen pos- 
sessed a large quantity of diamonds ; for, besides what 
she had already, the King had presented to her on 
different occasions various jewels which amounted 
in value to 300,000 francs. There had been riots on 
account of the price of bread, and distress was prev- 
alent among the lower classes. Mercy, who considered 
the fresh purchase of diamonds for such a large sum 
both unnecessary and ill-timed, tried to dissuade the 
young Queen. But she could not resist the tempta- 
tion, and finally agreed with the jeweler that the top 
diamonds of the earrings should be replaced by her 
own, and that the sum, thus reduced to 460,000 
francs, was to be paid by instalments in four years. 
But while still owing 300,000 francs she was tempted 
by a pair of diamond bracelets, for which she partly 
paid by giving some of her own diamonds at a price 
below their value, but with the obligation of paying 
the remainder of the debt in money. When her funds 
were examined she had nothing left, and she was 
forced to ask the King for 2000 louis.^ Always kind 
and indulgent to his wife, he did not utter a word 
of reproach, and gave her the sum for which she 
asked, merely remarking very gently that he was not 
surprised that she had no money, being so fond of 
diamonds. 

1 The louis d'or was then, worth twenty-four francs. The present twenty- 
franc piece was introduced by Napoleon, and formerly bore his name. 



96 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

Mercy related this story to Maria Theresa, who 
was much distressed. She writes to Mercy : 

"Although my daughter was so young when she 
went away from here, I saw in her character a great 
deal of thoughtlessness, deficiency of application, 
and obstinacy as regards carrying out her own will, 
with plenty of adroitness in avoiding the remon- 
strances which one would wish to address to her. It 
is now evident that I was not mistaken in my judg- 
ment, and time only will show whether riper years 
and more maturity of judgment wiU correct these 
defects." 

To Marie- Antoinette she writes : 

"All the newspapers coming from Paris make it 
known that you have bought bracelets worth 250,000 
livres; that you have consequently distm-bed your 
finances and incurred debts ; and that, to mend mat- 
ters, you have sold your own diamonds at a very low 
price. It is also said that you lead the King into the 
excessive and needless expense which has increased 
to such a degree lately, and which adds so much to 
the present distress of the state. I believe all this to 
be exaggerated, but I think it is necessary that you 
should know the reports that are prevalent — loving 
you so tenderly as I do. These stories go to my very 
heart, especially when I think of the futm'e." 

To this reprimand Marie-Antoinette answers care- 
lessly : " I have nothing to say about the bracelets. I 
should not have supposed that any one could trouble 
the kindness of my dear mama with such trifles." 



BEPBTMANDS OF MABIA THEBESA 97 

Maria Theresa retorts : " You are young, in a new 
country, and with natural gifts which are sufficient 
for you to become perfectly all that you should be ; 
it is only f rivohty that I fear, — and I cannot conceal 
my fears from you. You pass over the matter of 
the bracelets very lightly ; but all this is not as you 
would wish it to be. A sovereign lady lowers her- 
self by too much adornment of her person; still 
more if she goes so far as to spend large sums for 
the purpose ; — and at what a time ! I see only too 
much your love of dissipation; I cannot be silent, 
loving you as I do, for your good, and not to flatter 
you. Do not lose, through frivolous trifles, the 
good opinion that you won at first. The King is 
known to be very moderate, so the blame would 
fall on you alone. I do not wish to outlive such a 
change." 

But Marie-Antoinette was accustomed to being 
scolded by her mother, and had ceased to pay much 
attention to her reprimands, save when Mercy or 
the Abbe de Vermond appealed to her heart and 
her filial devotion. She then took fresh resolutions, 
and promised reform, but soon resumed her former 
errors. Her present engrossing wish was to ap- 
point the Princesse de Lamballe to the post of 
Surintendante, or Mistress of the Household. The 
high salary and supreme authority belonging to this 
post had caused it to be suppressed by the late 
Queen, on account of the incessant difficulties which 
it occasioned in the daily intercourse with the other 



98 THE STOEY OF MAEEE-ANTOINETTE 

ladies. It was objected also that the Princesse de 
Lamballe was far too young for such a position. 
Madame de Noailles, now Marechale de Mouchy, 
declared that having always held the highest rank 
in the Queen's household, she would not submit to 
having even a princess of the blood placed above 
her and invested with any portion of her preroga- 
tives. The ministers offered as objections the in- 
crease of expense and the absolute inutility of the 
appointment. But the young Queen was determined 
to carry her point, as she said, " to make my friend 
happy, and myseK too at the same time." 

At last Madame de Noailles (de Mouchy) sent in 
her resignation, and the Queen had no rest till Ma- 
dame de Lamballe was appointed Surintendante, with 
handsome apartments in the palace and a salary of 
150,000 livres. 

Marie- Antoinette had achieved her aim, and had 
besides proved her influence over the King ; but his 
weakness was still further made evident with regard 
to the Comte de Gruines. Although the judgment 
had been in the latter's favor, pubhc opinion was so 
manifestly against him that the ministers insisted 
upon his recall from his post of ambassador in Lon- 
don. The Queen, who had warmly taken up his de- 
fense from the beginning of the proceedings, and who 
was piqued by his friends to show her influence, was 
extremely angry at the apparent slight thrown upon 
Guines, and insisted upon his receiving the title of 
duke as a compensation for the loss of the embassy. 



MAEEIAGE OP MADAME CLOTILDE 99 

She attacked the King so resolutely and vehemently 
that the "poor man" (as we have seen that she 
called him) gave way once more, and wrote to 
Gruines announcing that he would receive the title 
of duke. Not only did Marie- Antoinette force the 
King to write himself, but she tore up the letter 
three times, and made him write it again, because 
she did not consider the terms he used sufficiently 
gracious and flattering. Upon this, two of the min- 
isters, Turgot and Malesherbes, sent in their resigna- 
tions. Thus the thoughtless young Queen incurred 
the responsibility of depriving the country of the 
services of two men, equally honest and estimable, 
whose wise measures might have succeeded in re- 
moving, or at least palliating, the terrible financial 
difficulties against which the country was struggling. 
The marriage of the King's young sister, Madame 
Clotilde, with the Prince of Piedmont, afterward 
King of Sardinia, was the occasion of gi'eat rejoic- 
ings and of a splendid ball at Versailles, of which 
Horace Walpole gives an account in his letters. 
He writes with great enthusiasm of the Queen, say- 
ing that it was impossible to look at any other wo- 
man in her presence. " When seated, she seems the 
statue of Beauty; when she moves, she is grace 
itself." She wore a dress of silver tissue trimmed 
with pink blossoms of oleander, and danced the first 
minuet, in which etiquette required that she should 
never turn her back to the King, " which she per- 
formed divinely." 



100 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

The wonderful charm which characterized Marie- 
Antoinette is dwelt upon by aU contemporary- 
writers. Every one seems to have felt its influence ; 
those who were most prejudiced against her by 
popular gossip and satire were won over by a word 
or a smile even in her worst days of adversity. 
Unhappily, although always gracious and fascinat- 
ing to those who came near her, she was yet so 
taken up by her intimate friends that few had an 
opportunity of doing so. She did not like old people, 
which, though extremely natural, was equally im- 
pohtic, for they were often the most influential, and 
she thus created enmities which became hotbeds of 
scandal. 

After the marriage of Madame Clotilde (whom 
Horace Walpole describes as being "exactly of the 
size of the late Lord Holland," and who was called 
by the populace "the fat Madame"), the State Gover- 
ness, the Comtesse de Marsan, resigned. She was re- 
placed by her niece, the Princesse de Guemenee, as 
"Governess to the Children of France," of whom 
there was now only one, the little sister of Madame 
Clotilde, who was afterward known as the admira- 
ble " Madame Ehsabeth," and whose intense grief at 
the separation awoke general interest and warm sym- 
pathy from Marie-Antoinette especially. Madame 
Clotilde was also extremely amiable, and became 
revered as a saint in Piedmont; but Marie- An- 
toinette was repelled by her appearance, and always 
showed a marked preference for the little Madame 



THE PRINCESSE DE GIlfiMfiNfiE 101 

Elisabeth. The Comtesse de Marsan had resented 
the indifference shown to her elder pupil, and still 
more the criticisms uttered by the Queen on the edu- 
cation she had given her, so that Madame de Marsan, 
who belonged to the illustrious house of Eohan and 
had in consequence wide-spread influence, became 
the Queen's bitter and mischievous enemy. 

The Princesse de Gruemen^e, niece to Madame de 
Marsan, now filled her place to the great satisfaction 
of Marie- Antoinette. And yet the Princesse de G-ue- 
menee was separated from her husband and had a 
bad reputation ! 



7* 



CHAPTEE VI 

Rivalries and court jealousies — Evenings in the apartments of the 
Princesse de Guemenee— A chiUing visitor — Noisy, undigni- 
fied society — Privileges of the milliner MUe. Bertin — The 
Queen's extravagance — Her frivoUty — An adoption — Jour- 
ney to France of Joseph II — The Queen's simpUcity and in- 
genuousness — Impressions made by Joseph II on the King 
and Queen — A head-dress " too fragile to support a crown" — 
Impressions made on Joseph II by his visit — Return of her 
"evil genius" — Reports in the English newspapers — The 
Queen and Hume's "History of England." 



ANOTHER fancy whicli had more serious conse- 
Jl\. quences soon engrossed the Queen's attention. 
A young married lady of provincial nobility and 
straitened fortune, named the Comtesse de Polignac, 
was presented to the Queen during an accidental 
visit to a relative living at Versailles. Marie-Antoi- 
nette felt a strong attraction toward the very pretty 
and interesting Madame de Polignac. It was the 
age of excessive friendships ; every one must have a 
bosom friend, another self, for whom everything must 
be sacrificed in the most romantic and unlimited fash- 
ion. So Madame de Polignac became the Queen's 
bosom friend, loved with all-absorbing affection. 
Poor Madame de LambaUe was neglected, and showed 
jealousy, without any result beyond scenes and quar- 
rels with Madame de Polignac, which only irritated 



KIVALEIES AND COURT JEALOUSIES 103 

Marie- Antoinette, who, as Mercy had prophesied, 
was getting tired of Madame de Lamballe's sleepy, 
rather silly sweetness. Both ladies, however, 
showed only too much their pretensions that the 
sacrifices which they claimed in the name of the 
sacred rights of friendship should all come from 
the Queen, and they vied with each other in their 
perpetual demands for favors of all kinds attended 
with pecuniary advantages for their families and 
their friends. The Queen, to pacify the one and to 
satisfy the other of her insatiable favorites, granted 
all that they asked, thus most abusively pressing on 
the deficient funds of the state. 

Madame de Noailles's departure had removed the 
sole restraint on the Queen's fancies, and she now 
abolished the etiquette of the court as far as she 
could. She often suppressed the evening court circle, 
and went instead to the Princess de Gruemenee, where 
she met undesirable society with still more undesir- 
able familiarity, returning at a late hour, with no 
other escort than the Comtesse de Polignac and a 
footman, to go through the guard-rooms full of sol- 
diers ! " There was no harm." Certainly not ; but a 
good deal might be supposed. The Princesses de 
Lamballe and de Gruemen^e held rival " salons " ; in 
the first was the whole set of the Palais Eoyal, with 
the Due de Chartres ^ and his friends ; the other rep- 
resented all the Polignac coterie, with their ambitious 
views and intrigues, supported by the party of the 

1 Afterward Due d'Orl^ans : known for his revolutionary principles. 



104 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

minister Maurepas. The poor Queen was tlie tool of 
both. Ingenuous and full of confidence in the affec- 
tion of those who professed to be her friends, she was 
far too communicative in her conversation, even in 
her letters; and of this over-frankness a treacher- 
ous use was made, especially by the Polignac party. 
Marie- Antoinette, in her sentimental affection, con- 
sidered that it was her duty to conceal nothing from 
her " friend " ; and thus her most private domestic 
concerns, with those of the King, were freely talked 
of to Madame de Polignac, through whom a great 
deal of private gossip oozed out to the public. The 
King rather liked Madame de Polignac, and was per- 
suaded sometimes to accompany the Queen in her 
evening visits to Madame de Guem^n^e, where all the 
Polignac party assembled. But his presence chilled 
the exuberance of those present, who, knowing his 
methodical habits, anxiously awaited the hour of 
eleven, when the King punctually went off to bed. It 
is even stated that there were instances when the hand 
of the clock was slyly put forward to accelerate his 
departure ! The Queen remained tUl a late hour, en- 
joying noisy merriment which was equally unsuited 
to her youth and to her illustrious rank. The same 
undignified style of intercourse followed her to the 
horse-races introduced by the Comte d'Artois, and 
which she greatly enjoyed and patronized. The 
Queen's "stand" had not the decorum of modern 
days. The Comte d'Artois set the example of free- 
dom as yet unknown in court society, and the 



NOISY, UNDIGNIFIED SOCIETY 105 

Queen was surrounded by riotous young men who 
laughed uproariously and quarreled alternately in 
her presence, wearing their riding-coats and -boots 
instead of what had always been the indispensable 
court attire, and unceremoniously pillaging the re- 
freshments prepared. The Comte d'Artois betted, 
lost, and flew into a fury without restraint in the 
presence of the young Queen, whose too indulgent 
levity was severely criticized by those who witnessed 
these scenes and "new manners." The Comte de 
Provence and his wife (" Monsieur " and " Madame ") 
looked grave and dignified in silent protestation, 
which every one approved. " Monsieur " would not 
allow " Madame " to follow the Queen alone in her 
pleasure excursions and freaks ; the Princess always 
apologized and kept aloof on the plea of her health, 
which caused unfavorable comparisons to fall on the 
Queen. 

The passion of the latter for pleasm*e was carried 
so far that she was known to return at six in the 
morning from the Op^ra ball, and to go off again to 
the races at ten o'clock ! One of the com-t balls which 
began at eleven in the evening went on till eleven the 
next morning ! 

The Queen no longer allowed her ladies to dress 
her according to former etiquette; she retired into 
her private dressing-room, where Mile. Bertin, the 
milliner, performed the office of dresser; and the 
Queen returned only for the official toilet, when 
the whole court was admitted, before going to mass. 



106 THE STOEY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

The dislike of poor Marie- Antoinette for tlie mani- 
fold ceremonies which etiquette prescribed is easy 
to understand ; but she might have dressed privately 
with her own women, for the admission into the 
Queen's most intimate privacy of a milliner living 
in constant intercourse with the fashionable world 
was certainly objectionable for many reasons. 

Meanwhile the expenses of the young Queen went 
on increasing. The Comte d'Artois had introduced 
high play at the receptions of the Princesse de Gue- 
menee. Marie- Antoinette, who at first did not care 
for cards, became interested and excited; finally, play 
became a passion, and she lost large sums which the 
King was often obliged to pay, her finances being in- 
sufficient, liberal as was her allowance. Her stables 
also assumed hitherto unknown proportions. The 
late Queen had a hundred and fifty horses ; Marie- 
Antoinette had three hundred, with a total increase 
of expenditure amounting to 200,000 livres a year.^ 

The sums lavished on Trianon also caused mur- 
murs ; the garden alone had cost 150,000 livres, and 
the Queen had recently built a theater near the small 
palace. She had as yet given only one f^te there, 
but it had been very costly, and the manner in which 
money had been squandered in the short space of 
two years (1774 to 1776) provoked general alarm. 

The Princesse de Lamballe filled a post which was 



1 A totally useless appointment as equerry, with carriages, servants, 
and liveries provided by the King, was given to the husband of Madame 
de Polignac, for the sole reason that he was her husband! 



THE QUEEN'S EXTEAVAGANCE 107 

considered not only utterly useless, but which was a 
source of constant difficulties and complications, with 
a salary of 150,000 hvres. Besides all this, a number 
of pensions had been granted to her friends and pro- 
teges, merely because she asked for these favors. 

But as time went on, the sums devoted to the 
Polignac family became outrageous, and caused uni- 
versal indignation, with those satirical songs and 
lampoons which in France so easily produce infinite 
mischief. The reputation of Madame de Polignac 
was by no means immaculate, and the free-thinking 
principles which she openly avowed in matters of 
religion and morality made her a most undesirable 
companion for a young queen of only twenty-one 
years of age. 

The Abbe de Yermond tried to remonstrate seri- 
ously, and leaves us a characteristic account of his 
interview with Marie- Antoinette. The Queen was 
talking of a certain bishop who had been her con- 
fessor, saying : " He wanted to make me devout [de- 
vote, which implies exaggerated devotion] ! " 

" Up to that time,*^ says the Abbe, " I had been 
merely a listener; but I then spoke: 'How would he 
have managed to make you devout 1 I have never 
been able to make you reasonable!' The Queen 
smiled, and seemed to require me to prove my words. 
'For instance, Madame,' I retorted, 'your society, 
your friends of both sexes ; you have become very 
indulgent as regards morality and reputation. I 
might prove that at your age such indulgence, espe- 



108 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

cially with regard to women, produces a bad impres- 
sion ; but I wUl pass over tlie fact that you pay no 
attention either to the morals or the reputation of a 
woman, and that you make her your companion, 
your friend, only because you find her agreeable, 
although certainly these are not principles to be 
professed by a priest; but that misconduct of all 
kinds, bad morals, a stained or lost reputation, be- 
come apparently a title for admission into your so- 
ciety — this is what causes you the greatest possible 
injury. For some time, latterly, you have not even 
had the prudence to keep up an intimacy with at 
least some women having the fame of " reasonable " 
and good conduct.' The Queen listened to my whole 
sermon with a smile of acknowledgment and ap- 
proval. I spoke gently, but in a tone of sorrow and 
pity. The Queen took up only one of my assertions 
by quoting, as having a good reputation, Madame de 
Lamballe alone. I said that this reputation would 
not last, and that her silliness would and could only 
increase. Her Majesty agreed with me as to this re- 
mark, and quoted several instances. What is to be 
done or hoped after such avowals without any desire 
or intention of a change ? " ^ 

The amiable disposition of Marie-Antoinette is 
again brought to light in this letter from the Abbe 
de Yermond; but reform was more and more im- 
probable. She smiled good-humoredly, heard pa- 

1 Letter of the Abb6 de Vermond, in the state papers of Vienna ; no 
date, Ijut supposed to have been written in 1776. 



THE QUEEN'S FRIVOLITY 109 

tiently all the disagreeable truths which were laid 
before her, but her imprudent follies only increased. 
The Comtesse de la Marck, in her correspondence 
with Gustavus III of Sweden, thus describes Marie- 
Antoinette: "The Queen goes incessantly to the 
opera and to the play, gets into debt, interferes in 
law-trials, adorns herself with feathers and knots of 
ribbon, and laughs at everything ! ^ Alas, no woman 
was ever destined to shed more bitter tears ! But as 
yet she thought only of enjoying the passing hour. 
One of her familiar courtiers, the Baron de Besenval, 
Heutenant-colonel of the Swiss Guards, says that 
if the conversation in the Queen's presence ever took 
a serious turn, weariness was immediately depicted 
on her countenance. She cared for nothing but the 
light, witty small talk which so particularly charac- 
terized the period, when conversation was an art — 
an art which made all social intercourse delightful. 
Talleyrand says in his memoirs that only those who 
knew the " salons " of the time immediately preced- 
ing the Eevolution could have any idea of the charm 
of society. Conversation was not, however, wholly 
frivolous except at the court in the presence of the 
young Queen, who could not bear anything " serious." 
Elsewhere the grave political problems of the day 
were discussed, with new liberal theories, the "phi- 
losophy" of the period, taken from the writings of 
the time, — Rousseau and his disciples, with their 
Utopian visions of an earthly paradise of sentimen- 
tal felicity, where every one would be virtuous, bene- 



110 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

ficent to others, and enthusiastically grateful for 
benefits received: the "Fudge" of the "Vicar of 
"Wakefield," but extremely attractive to the young 
and well-meaning, easily won over to delusions. 

Marie- Antoinette, who was young, kind-hearted, 
and imaginative, was considerably influenced by the 
sentimental principles of the time, and dreamed of 
the most generous philanthropy, while the empty cof- 
fers consequent upon her extravagant expenses and 
losses at cards prevented her from performing the 
ordinary charities appertaining to her exalted posi- 
tion. On one occasion, however, she found an oppor- 
tunity for romantic generosity, practised according 
to the theories of the time. She was driving in her 
carriage near Versailles, when a pretty child of four 
or five years, playing on the road, ran in front of the 
horses. They were immediately and successfully 
stopped, so that Marie- Antoinette, who was naturally 
much alarmed, had the satisfaction of seeing that he 
was not in the least hurt. With her usual kind-hearted 
impulsiveness, she stood up in her carriage and 
eagerly asked for his mother ; but an old woman who 
ran out of a cottage told the Queen that he was her 
grandchild, the son of her daughter, who had died, 
leaving five grandchildren to her care. Marie- Antoi- 
nette immediately declared that she would take this 
one, and that all the others should be cared for. 
The old woman through her thanks repeated that 
"Jacques was very naughty— would he stay with 
her ? " The Queen, however, took the child on her 



AN ADOPTION 111 

knee, and gave orders to drive on, but was soon ob- 
liged to return to the palace, for Jacques screamed 
lustily, kicking the Queen and her ladies with all 
his might, and resisting all attempts to comfort 
or pacify him. 

The decorum of the attendants was considerably 
disturbed when the Queen came into her apartments 
holding by the hand a little peasant boy who roared 
as loud as he could that he "wanted grandmother — 
brother Louis — sister Marianne ! " One of the ward- 
robe-women who was appointed to take care of the 
child, after fruitless attempts to manage him, snatched 
him up and carried him off, still kicking, struggling^ 
and screaming, without seeming in the least to ap- 
preciate his good fortune in having thus opportunely 
found a fairy godmother. The other children were 
put to school, and a couple of days later Monsieur 
Jacques, having been tamed in some degree, was 
brought to the Queen, decked in white silk and lace, 
a pink scarf fringed with silver, and a hat and fea- 
thers. He looked very pretty, and the Queen was de- 
lighted. The name Jacques being too unromantic, 
she dubbed him "Armand," and directed that he 
should be brought to her every morning at nine. 
He breakfasted with her, and often dined also, even 
when the King was present. She called him "my 
child," and fondled him to her heart's content. This 
unnatural system was continued till she had chil- 
dren of her own. Such transplantations are seldom 
successful, and this one was no exception to the rule ; 



112 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

for Jacques (Armand) turned out very badly, and 
became one of the most bloodthirsty among the revo- 
lutionists. He was killed at the battle of Jemmapes. 
Marie- Antoinette was at all times exceedingly fond 
of children, and always showed the greatest kindness 
to her little nephew, son of the Comtesse d'Artois, 
although her own hopes and wishes seemed so far 
from being realized. But the insults of the populace, 
who pursued her with cries and reproaches for giving 
no heir to the crown, drove her almost to despair, 
and after the state baptism of the young Prince she 
rushed to her own private apartments, where she 
gave way to floods of tears. Then again, to silence 
her own son'ow, she had recourse to constant dissi- 
pation — balls, races, and, above all, the incessant ex- 
citement of habitual gambling, where she lost large 
sums and incurred considerable debts. The games 
of mere chance forbidden by police regulations in 
Paris were played now in the Queen's own apart- 
ments, with bankers from Paris who presided at the 
tables. With the strange freedom of admission which 
belonged to the customs of the period, persons who 
did not belong to the court could come to the tables, 
bet, and put money on the cards. There were scenes, 
quarrels, imputations of cheating, large sums lost 
and won. The King was displeased, but perpetually 
yielded to the wishes of the Queen and the Comte 
d'Artois, though saying plainly, with an attempt at 
a laugh : " Vous ne vales rien tous tant que vous etes ! " 
(You are a good-for-nothing set, all of you !) 




LOUISE-MARiE DE FRANCE. 

AFTER » PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT & CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTING BY JEAN-MARC NATTIER. 



JOURNEY TO FRANCE OF JOSEPH 11 113 

Many of the nobility kept away from the conrt, 
fearing the losses consequent on such high play; 
the balls also became more and more deserted, be- 
cause the habit was lost of paying respect to the 
Queen at her circle of Versailles, from which she was 
too often absent. Balls are mentioned where only 
ten or twelve ladies danced, among them those who 
did not actually belong to the court ; and the Queen 
began to notice with uneasiness the increasing 
coldness of the aristocracy. Mercy, who saw mat- 
ters rapidly progressing from bad to worse, inces- 
santly lamented to Maria Theresa, giving minute 
details of the present state of affairs at the court. 
The Empress preached and remonstrated, bat all to 
no avail; and finally it was settled that a long-talked- 
of journey of Joseph II to France should take place, 
that he might himself judge whether anything was 
to be done. Joseph 11 had frequently written in 
stringent terms to his sister, and on one occasion so 
harshly that Maria Theresa stopped his letter, fear- 
ing mischief. Marie- Antoinette, in fact, though al- 
wsijs submissive to her mother, not unnaturally 
resented the interference of her brother ; but it was 
hoped that family affection and cautiously reason- 
able language on the part of the Emperor Joseph 
might produce a lasting impression on the young 
Queen, so sad at heart in reality, and yet in ap- 
pearance so volatile and superficial. 

The Emperor Joseph II was only too much im- 
bued with the liberal and " philosophical " doctrines 



114 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

prevalent at the time. He began by declaring be- 
forehand that he would not accept apartments at 
the palace of Versailles, wishing to play the part of 
a looker-on, with complete freedom, like any other 
casual traveler. In Paris, however, he consented to 
occupy rooms in the house of his own ambassador, 
Mercy, though strictly incog., under the name of the 
Count de Falkenstein ; but at Versailles Mercy was 
obliged to engage rooms for him in a private house 
near the palace, and to furnish them as plainly as 
possible. 

Joseph II, born in 1741, was thirty-six years of age 
at the time of his first visit to France, and conse- 
quently was fourteen years older than his sister 
Marie- Antoinette. The likeness, however, judging 
from the portraits kept at Versailles, was extremely 
remarkable. There is the same long, narrow, oval 
of the face, the same aquiline features, the same 
blue eyes and golden hair, the same Austrian hp. 
But the masculine version of the characteristics is 
far less attractive than what we see in the portraits 
of Marie- Antoinette. 

The Queen hardly knew whether to rejoice at her 
brother's arrival, as she feared reproofs, with the 
more reason that, finding her finances in much dis- 
order, she had appealed to Mercy for the winding up 
of her accounts. To her surprise and consternation, 
the total of her debts was found to amount to more 
than 487,000 livres. She saw the impossibility of 
paying such a sum herself, and although she shrank 



JOURNEY TO FRANCE OF JOSEPH II 115 

from the avowal to the King, she was obliged to 
have recourse to his assistance. With his usual kind- 
ness, he at once took the debt upon himself, without 
a word of blame addressed to her, only asking for 
time to pay by instalments out of his privy purse, 
without having recourse to the funds belonging to 
the state, which he would not use for such a pur- 
pose. The Queen could not but be moved by such 
proofs of the King's real affection for her, and ad- 
mitted, in conversing with Mercy, that she had not 
yet made a sufficient return. She seemed, as usual, 
impressed by Mercy's remonstrances, but she was 
afraid of those that she might receive from her 
brother the Emperor. He wrote, however, that he 
came not to examine nor to criticize, still less with 
the intention of taking her to task, but with the sole 
aim of seeing his royal sister, and that he wished 
for nothing that could disturb that satisfaction. 

The Emperor's journey was, however, delayed 
through different circumstances till the 18th of April, 
when he arrived in Paris at seven in the evening. 
Mercy was suffering from an indisposition which was 
sufficiently serious to oblige him to keep his bed, but 
the Emperor came to his bedside immediately, and 
spent part of the evening with him in earnest con- 
versation, during which Mercy carefully explained 
all that he was about to witness. 

The Emperor went to Versailles early the next 
morning, and reached the palace at half -past nine. 
According to his particular request, the Abb6 de 



116 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

Yermond came immediately to the carriage door, and 
led the Emperor, alone, by a back staircase into the 
Queen's private rooms, without being seen by any of 
the courtiers. The brother and sister embraced, and 
remained silent for a short space, as if overcome by 
their feelings. The Queen then led the Emperor into 
an inner room, and there they had the satisfaction 
of remaining alone together, and conversed freely for 
two hours, the Emperor speaking so affectionately to 
the Queen that with her characteristic ingenuousness 
she poured out to him all of her private sorrows, and 
even her follies, her habits of dissipation, her taste 
for high play, her friends and favorites, but with a 
little more reticence as regards the latter. 

The Emperor, who had not intended to enter 
immediately upon such delicate subjects, answered 
cautiously and kindly, merely pointing out the great 
importance of such matters, adding that he would 
carefully think over all she had said. The Queen 
then took him to the King, who embraced him and 
tried to give him a cordial welcome, but with the 
awkwardness which was always the consequence of 
his constitutional shyness. The good-humored ease 
of manner shown by the Emperor soon modified this 
only too much ; for two days later the Emperor, hav- 
ing gone with the Queen to take supper in the apart- 
ments of "Madame" (Comtesse de Provence), the 
Bang and his brothers were so completely at their 
ease that they ran after each other and threw them- 
selves on sofas like romping school-boys, to the great 



IMPRESSIONS MADE BY JOSEPH U 111 

mortification of the Queen and also of the Comtesse 
de Provence, who called impatiently to her husband, 
saying that she had never seen him behave so child- 
ishly. The Emperor took no notice, and continued 
to converse with the princesses without showing 
surprise. 

On the following day the Queen took him to Tria- 
non with only two ladies-in-waiting, and dined there ; 
but after dinner she walked on alone with the Empe- 
ror in the gardens, and there they had again a long 
and intimate conversation, Joseph II reverting to all 
the objectionable points of her habitual conduct, and 
speaking strongly but kindly of the errors which she 
had acknowledged to him. She agreed with his ex- 
postulations, acknowledged her own failures, contin- 
ued her confessions, but made no promises beyond 
the simple statement that " a time would come when 
she would follow such good advice." The Emperor 
did not like the Princesse de Lamballe ; the Queen 
admitted that she had been mistaken when she gave 
her the appointment of Surintendante. 

The Emperor went to the races, and was extremely 
displeased at the style prevalent there, of which he 
had been warned by Mercy. On the Sunday he 
spent the day at Versailles, to witness all the public 
functions of that day, of which he writes to his 
brother Leopold: 

"Yesterday I saw a Sunday celebrated at Ver- 
sailles in publico : the levee, the mass, the pubhc 
dinner. I was in the crowd as a mere looker-on. 



118 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

I must own that this was amusing, as I play my 
part on the stage so often, I enjoy an opportunity 
of seeing it played by others."^ 

By the Queen's desire he accompanied her to an 
evening reception in the apartments of the Prin- 
cesse de Gruemenee, and was painfully impressed by 
what he saw there, telling the Queen plainly that it 
was "a regular gambling-house" ("un vrai tripot"). 

Without losing any opportunity of having long and 
exhaustive conversations with the King and Queen, 
the Emperor visited in Paris all the sights interest- 
ing to travelers, and among others the Jardin des 
Plantes, where Buffon was prevented by illness from 
doing the honors; but the Emperor kindly visited 
him in his apartments, and took an opportunity of 
saying with a smile: "I come to fetch the copy of 
your book that my brother left behind him." 

Many things surprised the Emperor disagreeably 
at Versailles which are also mentioned by Horace 
Walpole: the dirt and neglect of the entrance of 
the palace, the strange freedom of access tolerated, 
and the sight of booths like a fair in the vestibule, 
and even on the landings of the staircases, where 
various articles were freely bought and sold. The 
Queen was sometimes annoyed by the plain-spoken 
criticisms of her brother, who did not always spare 
her personally, even in the presence of her ladies, 
which was naturally painful to her. 

On one occasion when she claimed his admiration 

1 Letter of the 29th of April, 1777 : state papers of Vienna. 



A " TOO-FRAaiLE " HEAD-DEESS 119 

for an elaborate head-dress with a quantity of feath- 
ers, Joseph II looked grave, and hesitated. 

" Why, do you not like it ? " said the Queen, with 
some disappointment. 

" Some people may think it pretty," replied the 
Emperor ; " but it is really too fragile to support a 
crown!'' 

The Queen felt the lesson conveyed, and was 
piqued. She wished the Emperor to return with her 
to the reception of Madame de Gruemenee, but he 
positively refused; and as she persisted in going, 
he spent the evening with Mesdames in the apart- 
ment of Madame Adelaide. 

The young Princess Elisabeth, who was just grow- 
ing out of childhood, pleased him so much that 
there were rumors of an intended marriage in the 
future, but this does not seem to have had any real 
foundation ; the Emperor had lost two consorts, and 
was unwilling to marry a third time. 

After many conversations with the King and 
Queen, the Emperor's advice to both, and the reasons 
that he laid before them, seemed to have produced 
the best impression, although Marie- Antoinette told 
her brother playfully that a longer visit would enable 
him to be more useful to her, but that they would 
often quarrel. To Mercy she said that she felt the 
truth of the Emperor's remarks to her, and that she 
would follow his advice, but after his departure, for 
she did not wish to seem to be led by him, which 
was very characteristic of the wilful, though amiable, 



120 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

nature of the young Queen. Finally, in a last affec- 
tionate interview she begged the Emperor to leave 
her a summary of his advice in writing, which he 
agreed to do, after being privately warned by Mercy 
to abridge it as far as possible, or the Queen would 
never read it! 

The King, notwithstanding his natural reserve and 
shyness, was won over by his brother-in-law, to 
whom he spoke far more openly and confidentially 
than was usual with him. 

The advice, somewhat in the form of an examina- 
tion of conscience, was left by the Emperor in the 
Queen's hands ; but when she read it, she said im- 
mediately as Mercy feared, that she would reply on 
all points, proving that her conduct had always been 
just and reasonable ! 

The parting was extremely affectionate. The Em- 
peror was much moved, and after his departure the 
Queen had an attack of hysterics, which, however, 
had no bad consequences. She spent the following 
day at Trianon, and would see no one but the Prin- 
cesse de Lamballe, the Comtesse de Polignac, and one 
lady-in-waiting. 

The impressions left on Joseph II by his visit to 
Versailles will not be read without interest. To the 
Empress, his mother, he writes: "I left Versailles 
with sorrow, being really attached to my sister. I 
found with her the sort of sweetness in life which I 
did not expect to enjoy again, but of which I find 
that I have not lost the taste. She is amiable and 



IMPRESSIONS MADE ON JOSEPH H 121 

charming. I spent with her hours and hours, with- 
out perceiving how they fled. She showed consider- 
able feeling when I left her, but she did not lose her 
self-command. I was obliged to gather up all my 
moral strength to be able to get away." 

To his brother Leopold the Emperor says: "I 
leave Paris without regret, although I was extremely 
well treated there. Versailles was a greater sacrifice, 
for I was really attached to my sister, and her sor- 
row at our separation increased my own. She is an 
amiable and virtuous woman, rather young, rather 
giddy, but with a foundation of virtue and rectitude 
which reaUy deserves all respect ; with that, a quick- 
ness of intelligence and an accuracy of penetration 
which often surprised me. Her first impression is 
always the true one." 

Elsewhere he says: "Her virtue is immaculate, 
even austere, by nature rather than by reason." Al- 
luding to the King, he thus describes his charac- 
ter : " The man is weak, but he is no f ooL He has 
principles; he has judgment: but both body and 
mind are in a state of torpor. Though capable of 
carrying on a sensible conversation, he has no 
desire, no curiosity, for knowledge. In short, the 
word, Let there be light I has not yet been spoken ; 
matter is still in a chaotic state." 

Marie- Antoinette writes to her mother: "Ma- 
dame my very dear mother, the separation from my 
brother has given me a most painful shock ; I have 
suffered all that it is possible to bear, and my only 



122 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

comfort is that he shared my sorrow. All the family 
here were much moved. 

"I should be very unjust if my grief, and the 
degree to which I miss him, left me only regret. 
Nothing can compensate for the happiness that I 
enjoyed and the proofs of affection which I received 
from him. I was sure that he only wished for my 
happiness, and this is proved by all his advice ; I 
shall never forget it. The only thing that failed him 
was the necessary time to know more thoroughly 
the people with whom I must live." 

Mercy hopes for reform ; but he is soon obliged to 
admit that the Queen is returning to all her former 
errors, and that he fears greatly for the future, the 
improvement having been only temporary, and dur- 
ing an absence of her " evil genius," the Comte d'Ar- 
tois, whose persuasions on his return soon induced 
her to resume high play, dissipation, late hours, and 
questionable society. Soon the hot weather induced 
other amusements subject to great objections, but 
also suggested by the Comte d'Artois. The terrace 
of Versailles was open to the public ; at his instiga- 
tion military bands were established there in the 
evenings; while to enjoy the cool air, the royal 
family came upon the terrace and mixed freely with 
the crowd. The Queen and the princesses at first kept 
together, but gradually they separated, and often 
had only the arm of one lady-attendant as they 
walked about till a late hour. The Queen, with 
her usual absence of caution, became more and 



REPOETS m THE ENGLISH NEWSPAPERS 123 

more imprudent, even to sitting down upon public 
benches, and allowing herself to be addressed by 
strangers ! 

All kinds of reports became prevalent. The Eng- 
lish newspapers took up the matter with great exag- 
geration; soon the most unjust and most disgrace- 
ful accusations were directed against the Queen, and 
very generally believed. 

But Marie- Antoinette would not understand that 
such things, though harmless, must not be done. 
There was no harm. She delighted in walking about 
by moonlight in the cool of the night; she was 
amused by the mistaken belief that she was not rec- 
ognized, and she did not see why she was to be pre- 
vented from doing what was not wrong. It was only 
when too late that she perceived the infinite mischief 
caused by her levity. 

The Queen had made the sacrifice of reading 
Hume's "History of England" with the Abbe de 
Vermond, and this she considered sufficiently vir- 
tuous to cover many sins ! Mercy, though giving her 
the credit of this great, effort, writes in despair that 
he believes the Emperor's written advice to have been 
thrown into the fire ! 



CHAPTER VII 

Fontainebleau in 1777 — The Queen's day at Fontainebleau — 
Constant association with the Comtesse de Polignac — Ex- 
travagance of Comte d'Artois — Hopes of an heir to the crown 
— Political difficulties — Interference of Marie-Antoinette in 
favor of Austria — Pressing letters from Maria Theresa — The 
Queen is more than ever called "the Austrian" — Madame 
Elisabeth's household — Household of the future heir — Birth 
of a daughter — Chimney-sweepers at the birth of a royal 
child — Witchcraft and a wedding-ring — Madame de Genlis. 



THE court went to Fontaineblean, and there the 
Queen showed Mercy her new private apartments, 
beautifully decorated and furnished with her usual 
carelessness as regards expense. The parquet floor- 
ing has still her initials in marquetry, "M. A." The 
espagnolette bolts of the large windows are said to 
have been the work of Louis XVI. These rooms were 
the favorite retreat of the Empress Eugenie at Fon- 
tainebleau. 

The day of Queen Marie- Antoinette during her 
visit there in 1777 is thus described by Mercy: 
"The Queen rose between ten and eleven. , When- 
ever I came to the anteroom at that hour, her 
Majesty called me in, and condescended to converse 
with me, sometimes for a long time. The King came 
to see the Queen, but did not remain more than a 

124 



THE QUEEN'S DAY AT FONTAINEBLEAU 125 

quarter of an hour. Monsieur (Comte de Provence) 
and Monsieur le Comte d'Artois came in succession. 
Tlie first did not remain long ; the visit of the second 
was more prolonged. The Queen then went out en 
desJiahille, and often took her breakfast with Ma- 
dame de Polignac before going to visit either Ma- 
dame ^ or the Comtesse d'Artois or the Mesdames de 
France. The toilet followed ; then her Majesty went 
to mass; on returning from the chapel, she dined 
with the King, except on hunting-days. This meal 
lasted only about half an hour ; some prince or prin- 
cess of the royal family usually came in. After an- 
other half -hour of conversation the King retired to 
his own apartments, and the Queen remained alone ; 
then her Majesty went sometimes, though rarely, to 
the Princesse de Lamballe, but more often and almost 
habitually to the Comtesse de Polignac, whose apart- 
ments are very near those of the Queen. The inter- 
views with that Countess are very long, and end 
only at the time for going to the play or the card- 
table up to the houi" of supper, which takes place 
in the apartments of Madame or the Comtesse 
d'Artois or in the private apartments, but never in 
the Queen's, except on Sundays, when there is the 
public dinner. After supper the Queen goes to the 
Princesse de Guemen^e, and plays till a late hour — 
sometimes two o'clock in the morning. The days are 
varied only by hunting-parties or races or rides on 
horseback and drives ; but the great evil is that there 

1 Comtesse de Provence, 



126 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

is not a moment for serious occupation of any kind, 
or for private conversation with the King. And 
yet, notwithstanding this incessant dissipation, the 
Queen is not pleasantly amused, and she condes- 
cended to tell me as much." 

Mercy gives an appalling account of the expenses 
of the Comte d'Artois, besides his losses at cards, 
amounting often to three thousand louis at one sit- 
ting. The King had given him the use of the cha- 
teau of St. Germain,^ and he not only spent large sums 
in alterations and repairs, but he bought a neighbor- 
ing country-seat, called Maisons, which was utterly 
unnecessary, the total expense amounting to at least 
five millions of francs. He next took a fancy to re- 
build a small house which he had in the Bois de 
Boulogne, called Bagatelle;^ and wishing to give a fete 
there to the Queen by a fixed date, he employed nine 
hundred workmen night and day to get it built in 
six or seven weeks. As it was difficult to procure 
necessary materials in so short a time, the Comte 
d'Artois sent detachments of soldiers out on the high- 
roads to seize all the carts they met laden with what 
was required. Everything was paid for on the spot ; 
still the arbitrary proceeding caused great murmurs 
of the public against the King, who tolerated such 
abuses, and the Queen, who was supposed to favor 
them. To Mercy's expostulations Marie- Antoinette 

1 Ejiown especially as the residence of James II of England during 
his exile. 

2 Bagatelle still exists in the Bois de Boulogne, and was the property 
of Sir Eichard Wallace. 



HOPES OP AN HEIR TO THE CROWN 127 

answered that she was very far from approving her 
brother-in-law's imprudent conduct, but that she 
had no power to stop it. The "Mesdames'' were 
at Fontainebleau with the Queen, but lived very 
quietly, showing their disapprobation only by keep- 
ing away from the card-tables and the evening 
receptions. 

The Queen continued to act as before, and all ex- 
postulation seemed useless. Mercy laments over the 
same errors: high play, debts paid with unlimited 
patience by the King, no money left for charities — 
and public murmurs at the omission, incessant dissipa- 
tion, overweening affection and excessive confidence 
shown to Madame de Polignac, who persistently made 
use of her influence to obtain incessant favors and 
large grants of money for her own family and friends. 
In vain Maria Theresa wrote to her daughter: "Your 
future makes me tremble ! " Marie- Antoinette was 
blind. In vain also the Emperor wrote to his sister 
in the harsh tones provoked by impatience: the 
Queen was irritated, yet made no change. 

But could even the previsions of either Maria 
Theresa or Joseph approach the reality of what that 
dreaded future was to be ? 

At length the official announcement of the hopes 
of an heir to the crown produced a favorable reac- 
tion not only on the part of the nation, but also as 
regards the Queen herself, who, feeling the responsi- 
bility of a position so long desired, and which was 
now a source of so much happiness to her, proved 



128 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOrNETTE 

docile to all that was advised by matrons, physicians, 
and the friendly ambassador Mercy, 

But soon a political question troubled what at first 
was such pure joy — the complications induced by the 
rival pretensions of Prussia and Austria with regard 
to the Bavarian possessions. After the death of the 
Elector, Maria Theresa had much wished to act 
diplomatically, without any immediate aggression; 
but her fiery son Joseph was all for what he called 
energetic measures, and had already entered Bavaria. 
Upon this Frederick II responded by the invasion 
of Bohemia. The French nation remained indiffer- 
ent, public interest being so engrossed by the war for 
independence in America and the embassy of Frank- 
lin, who had roused French enthusiasm to its highest 
pitch, that the nation cared Httle for Austria. 

The hope of Maria Theresa and her son lay in the 
influence of Marie-Antoinette over Louis XVI to 
consolidate the French alliance. The Empress cer- 
tainly felt the danger of too direct interference; she 
said that the Queen must not " make herself impor- 
tunate to the King and odious to the nation"; yet, 
pressed by necessity and the claims of Austrian in- 
terests, she wrote again and again urging her daugh- 
ter to use her influence over the King. Mercy talked, 
argued, and persuaded; finally, Marie- Antoinette 
spoke earnestly to Louis XYI on the manoeuvers of 
Frederick II and the danger of a coolness as regarded 
the alliance; but Louis XVI answered with char- 
acteristic roughness : " It is the ambition of your 




DUCHESSE DE POLIGNAC. 



FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT & CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTING BY MME. V10EE LEBRUN, 
IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. 



PRESSING LETTERS FROM MARIA THERESA 129 

family that will overturn everything; they began 
with Poland, and now Bavaria becomes the second 
volume; I am sorry for your sake." 

"But," replied the Queen, "you cannot deny. Mon- 
sieur, that you were informed of this Bavarian mat- 
ter, and that you agreed to it." 

"So httle agreed," exclaimed the King, "that 
orders have been given to our French envoys to 
make known in the courts where they represent us 
that this invasion of Bavaria has been done against 
our will, and that we disapprove it." 

Personally, Maria Theresa had been opposed to the 
aggression in Bavaria, which she calls a " firebrand 
thrown in Em'ope " ; but now that it could no longer 
be prevented, she was passionately eager for the sup- 
port of France as her best hope in the difficulties and 
reverses which she foresaw for Austria. 

In a letter to Marie- Antoinette she writes: "A 
change in our alliance would he my death.^ Mercy, 
who was present when the Queen read this, saw her 
turn pale, and said what he could to deepen the im- 
pression produced. Yet how difficult and dangerous 
was the position of Marie- Antoinette, placed as she 
was in the midst of such adverse circumstances ! 

The Emperor Joseph also wrote to the Queen, 
winding up his letter with these words, which made 
her miserable : " Since you will not prevent the war, 
we will fight like brave fellows ; and in any case, my 
dear sister, you wiU not have to blush for a brother 
who will ever deserve your esteem." Poor Marie- 



130 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

Antoinette wept on reading this, and repeated, " How 
troubled I am concerning my mother ! " — knowing 
how anxious and unhappy the war, and the part that 
her sons must play in it, made the Empress. 

The poor Queen tried to advance the Austrian in- 
terests, and made Mercy write down what she was 
to say to the ministers, which she copied, burning 
the original notes in Mercy's handwriting as a mea- 
sure of prudence. But she wiites despairingly to her 
mother : " I am grieved at my inability to reach the 
minds of all these ministers so as to bring them to 
understand how just and reasonable is all that is 
lione and demanded at Vienna ; but, unfortunately, 
there are none so deaf as those who will not hear, 
and besides, they have such a quantity of words and 
speeches that mean nothing, that they are bewildered 
before they can say anything reasonable. I will try 
speaking to both in the King's presence, to obtain 
that they should, at least, hold proper language to 
the King of Prussia. ... I should be miserable if 
my dear mama could suspect him ^ on account of all 
that is going on. No ; it is the wretched weakness 
of his ministers, and his own diffidence as regards 
himself, which do all the mischief ; and I am sure if 
ever he takes counsel from his own feelings, every one 
will see his honesty, his just views, and a degree of 
tact which is far from being fairly judged at present." 

Maria Theresa continues, however, to press her 
daughter earnestly, while Mercy is prodigal of ex- 

1 Louis XVI. 



"THE AUSTRIAN" 131 

planations and advice. The letters of the mother 
and daughter express more and more of anxiety and 
affliction. The Queen waited with intense suspense 
for the news from Bohemia, and the King found her 
in tears. Poor Louis, alarmed at her distress, told 
her that he could not bear to see her so anxious; 
that he wished to do anything in the world that 
could comfort her; that he was always inclined to 
do so, but that his ministers had stopped him, the 
interest of his people not allowing him to do more 
than he had done. The Queen then argued the 
matter with him, winding up by a passionate scene 
with Maurepas, to whom she expressed great anger. 

Alas ! the poor young Queen was more and more 
winning the name of " the Austrian," which stigma- 
tized her to the last. 

Mercy at this time relates a charming scene with 
Marie- Antoinette, in which she showed the charac- 
teristic simplicity and ingenuousness of her essen- 
tially amiable nature, which only wanted more firm- 
ness of purpose to become all that could be desired. 
The Queen had seemed more, sad and depressed than 
usual; at last, with a sudden impulse of almost 
childish confidence, she told Mercy that she would 
"make her general confession"; and then dwelt in 
detail, with much self-reproach, on all the particulars 
of her private life, begging for his advice and opinion 
on all her failings. There was a long conversation, 
in which Mercy did not spare her. She listened at- 
tentively, saying that her present sadness made the 



132 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

time favorable for serious thought on her future 
conduct, and that she felt the necessity of coming to 
a decision. 

A fete was to be given to the King at Trianon, 
and preparations had been made ; but it was coun- 
termanded by the Queen, who said, with tears, that 
she could not bear to indulge in amusements when 
she had to share the sorrows and anxieties of her 
mother. She even wished to give up all court plea- 
sures till the political difficulties had taken a favor- 
able turn ; but even Mercy told her that this would 
be too much, and would be misjudged. 

In one of her letters to the Empress she says : " I 
wish that I could give all my blood that my dear 
mama should be happy and enjoy all the prosperity 
and peace that she deserves so well!" 

Notwithstanding her distress and her strenuous 
efforts, all that Marie- Antoinette could obtain from 
the French government was a promise that no 
aggression against the Austrian Netherlands would 
be permitted. 

The summer was very hot, and the Queen resumed 
her public evening walks on the terrace of the palace 
till a late hour of the night, while the infamous re- 
ports of the preceding year were renewed and as- 
sumed greater consistency. A whole packet of songs 
and lampoons, in which the Queen was freely in- 
sulted, was thrown into one of the rooms ^ devoted 
to the use of the courtiers, by whom it was taken to 

1 The " CEil de Bceuf ." 



HOUSEHOLD OF THE FUTUEE HEIR 133 

the King, who expressed astonishment and anger, 
saying that he had himself been occasionally present 
at these evening recreations, and that they were per- 
fectly innocent. 

But, alas ! in the case of those surrounded by 
eager and watchful enemies, to seem innocent it is 
not enough that actions should he innocent I 

As the time drew near when the birth of her child 
was expected, Marie- Antoinette, always kind and 
considerate to those around her, " and only too easy 
as regards matters concerning her service" (accord- 
ing to the testimony of one of her attendants), began 
to think of the obligations of etiquette which would 
be painful to her ladies, who were required to watch 
all night during a fixed space of time. She could 
not prevent this, but she tried to procure as much 
relief as possible by having large reclining-chairs 
made which could be folded back so as to form the 
best possible substitute for a bed. 

In preparation for the great event, the household 
of the royal child was appointed, comprising eighty 
functionaries "devoted to its royal person," accord- 
ing to the language of Mercy — a manifest absurdity 
in the case of an infant, even though the child of a 
king and queen. Yet he praises the moderation of 
the Queen, as well as her judicious wish to avoid 
awakening feelings of pride in consequence of too 
many attendants. 

At the same time the household of the young Ma- 
dame Elisabeth was appointed, and the Polignac 



134 THE STOEY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

influence being still supreme, the Comtesse Diane de 
Polignac, an unmarried sister of the Comte de Po 
lignac, was named dmne d'honneur^ or "first lady," 
to the young Princess — a choice due entirely to 
the favor and protection of the Queen, although 
the clever and witty Comtesse Diane de Polignac 
was in all essentials utterly unfitted to be the guide 
and counselor of the King's young sister, being 
noted for her freedom of conduct, which equaled 
her freedom of speech. Fortunately, Madame Elisa- 
beth had been admirably educated by her sub-gov- 
erness, the Baronne de Mackau, who retained great 
influence over her mind and character. 

The birth of an heir to the crown was anxiously 
expected; but, alas! the child born on the 20th of 
December, 1778, proved to be a princess, and conse- 
quently could not succeed to the throne. 

The barbarous custom of admitting any one who 
came at the time of the birth of the child nearly 
cost the Queen her life, and for a few moments she 
was in imminent danger. The rush of the crowd, 
so unrestrained that two chimney-sweepers climbed 
on the furniture to have a better view; the defi- 
ciency of necessary air, and it is also said an impru- 
dent sign from the Princesse de Lamballe which 
made known to the mother the sex of the child, 
caused such a complication that the Queen fell into 
convulsions. The medical attendants imperatively 
demanded air, and decided on taking blood imme- 
diately. Nothing had been prepared for the emer- 



BIRTH OP A DAUGHTER 135 

gency, but nevertheless one of the surgeons opened 
a vein in the Queen's foot, the King rushed to the 
windows, and, although they had been pasted with 
paper strips, tore them open with his characteristic 
strength, while the attendants forcibly cleared the 
room, roughly pushing out the intruders. The blood 
flowed freely, and the Queen recovered conscious- 
ness, to the intense joy of all present. 

And yet, had it been possible to foresee what her 
death would be a few years later, could any one 
have rejoiced to see her restored only to meet such 
a fate ? But, happily, the future is unknown ! 

Four nm'ses were in readiness for the child — the 
fortunate foster-mother to be chosen at the last 
moment by the attending physicians, and the three 
others to be kept in readiness to supply any deficiency. 
For three years an attendant was required to remain 
dressed by the child's cradle during the whole night. 
The " children of France " could not be left to sleep 
like ordinary mortals ! 

The child whose birth caused so much disappoint- 
ment was named Marie-Ther^se-Charlotte,^ and was 
officially called " Madame, fille du roi," or, by abbre- 
viation, "Madame Royale," which was afterward 
definitively adopted as her designation, to distinguish 
her from the numerous other " Mesdames." 

Mercy interfered energetically to obtain due quiet 
in the Queen's bedchamber, and insisted upon the 
admissions to her presence being limited to the whole 

1 Known as the Duchesse d'AngoulSme. She died in 1851. 



136 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

royal family, her two principal ladies, the Princesse 
de Lamballe, the Comtesse de Polignac, the physi- 
cians, and the Abbe de Vermond. Any one would 
suppose that this would be more than enough ; but 
Mercy plumes himself on his firmness in this respect, 
and attributes to the "quiet" preserved round the 
Queen the satisfactory state of her health during the 
succeeding period. 

True, royal personages are accustomed to have so 
many attendants habitually around them that their 
impressions cannot be the same as those of private 
individuals ! 

Shortly after the birth of the young Princess the 
Queen received a sealed box with a letter purporting 
to come from a parish cure who had received the 
mission, under the seal of confession, to return the 
Queen's wedding-ring, which she had lost many years 
before, as she supposed while washing her hands. 
This ring had been purloined, as was now confessed, 
to be used in practices of witchcraft to prevent the 
Queen from having children! The name of the 
wicked culprit was never divulged, and with her 
usual generosity the Queen would not even try to 
guess it. 

When Marie- Antoinette began to receive officially 
after her recovery, the Duchesse de Chartres,^ after 
making her obeisance, presented to the Queen the 
apology of Madame de Genlis, state governess to 
the princes of Orleans, who was prevented by indis- 

1 Afterward Duchesse d'Orl^ans. 



MADAME DE GENLIS 137 

position from offering her respects. The Queen, 
who disliked Madame de Genlis, and whose native 
haughtiness easily came to the surface in such cases, 
replied coldly that she might have remarked the ab- 
sence of Madame de Genlis, but that her rank was 
not sufficient to authorize a formal apology. It is 
supposed that the intense hatred shown by Madame 
de Genhs toward the Queen may have had no more 
serious origin than this rebuff addressed to a woman 
of excessive vanity. Madame de Genlis became the 
Queen's bitter enemy, and the influence which by 
very questionable means she obtained at a later 
period over the Due de Chartres, who became Due 
d'Orleans, produced infinite mischief in more troub- 
lous times. 



CHAPTER VIII 

The Queen coldly received at the thanksgiving service — Fresh 
resolutions — The Opera masked balls — A Queen in a hack- 
ney-coach — False reports — The Queen has the measles — 
Unexpected sick-nurses — The Queen goes to Trianon for 
her convalescence — Abolition of etiquette at Trianon — Un- 
founded rumors concerning the Queen — An old coxcomb — 
Story of a heron plume — Causes of bitter enmity against the 
Queen — Perilous friendship — The theater of Trianon — A 
majestic soubrette — Madame de Lamballe — Death of Maria 
Theresa — Grief of the Queen. 



THE disappointment at the birth of a princess was 
great in the general world; and although much 
might have been forgiven to the mother of a dau- 
phin, the impression of old grievances now prevailed, 
and the Queen was coldly received in Paris when she 
went to Notre-Dame for her thanksgiving service. 

The King and Queen, however, forgot all in the 
joy of having a child, and showed the greatest affec- 
tion for the little Princess. Marie- Antoinette began 
to make plans for her education, and her letters are 
fuU of the pretty details so dear to young mothers: 
the child's first smile of recognition, her first tooth — 
more than all, the first word pronounced, "papa," 
and the King's joy! 

But although she expresses, as usual, the best reso- 



THE OPfiRA MASKED BALLS 139 

lutions,— although she declares that her past failings 
were due to childishness and thoughtlessness, but 
that now she is much more serious,^ the reform which 
really took place at last was not durable till the 
birth of the Dauphin, which did not occur for more 
than two years. 

Meanwhile the Queen still continued her visits to 
the Op^ra masked balls, open to so many objections, 
where she was followed by only one lady-in-waiting, 
and with the livery of her servants concealed by gray 
overcoats. On one of these occasions her carriage 
broke down, and the Queen was obliged to alight 
with the Duchesse de Luynes, who accompanied her, 
and to take refuge in the nearest shop. As there 
seemed to be no chance of getting the carriage re- 
paired within reasonable time, a lackey called a 
hackney-coach, in which the Queen and her attendant 
reached the opera-house. Marie- Antoinette was only 
diverted by the strange situation in which she was 
placed, and without in the least understanding the 
interpretation to which such an adventure would 
give rise, slie whispered to all those known to her 
whom she met at the Opera ball : " It is I, and in a 
hackney-coach! How amusing!" But the following 
day the story had spread through all Paris, with 
every possible exaggeration and insulting supposi- 
tion. Who could be surprised at this? What young 
woman in private life could indulge in such impru- 
dent acts without risking her reputation ? And yet 
she had done no wrong ! 



140 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

Shortly afterward the Queen was attacked with 
measles, and fearing infection for the King, desired 
him to keep away from her bedchamber during her 
illness. In this poor Louis XVI submissively acqui- 
esced, which caused some irritation to the Queen, who 
expected him to be more reluctant to leave her; 
while he no less submissively authorized the pres- 
ence of four gentlemen belonging to her intimate 
circle who remained daily with her tiU night. This 
naturally caused many remarks, many criticisms; 
and at the court it was asked very openly and deris- 
ively : " Which four ladies would attend the King 
should he take the distemper ? " 

Before judging too severely this act of indiscre- 
tion it must be remembered that the custom of the 
time authorized the Queen to receive men habitually 
in her bedchamber ; that there is safety in numbers ; 
and that she was never alone in such cases, but al- 
ways attended by several ladies. Still, on this occa- 
sion both Mercy and Maria Theresa considered that 
license was carried too far, the Empress expressing 
great displeasure at her daughter's "thoughtless act." 

With the Queen's convalescence came the joy of 
the signing of peace between Austria and Prussia; 
but the war with England was still a source of con- 
siderable anxiety, though not of such intimate im- 
portance to Marie- Antoinette's private feelings. 

The royal physicians prescribed change of air, and 
the Queen seized the long-desired opportunity of a 
sojourn at Trianon, in her " own house." She accord- 



ABOLITION OF ETIQUETTE AT TEIANON 141 

ingly removed there at once, and enjoyed the delight 
of living like a private individual, without the re- 
straints of ceremony and etiquette. Her visit this time 
was short ; but the step having been once taken, the 
Queen returned to Trianon at intervals, remaining 
there for a month at a time, and always without the 
King, who came only as a visitor to see his wife. 
These holidays of royalty were greatly enjoyed by 
the Queen, who even made over to the Comtesse de 
Polignac her prerogatives as mistress of the house, 
and established absolute freedom, so that no one 
even rose on her entrance, nor interrupted what they 
happened to be doing, the men continuing their game 
of billiards without taking notice of the Queen's pres- 
ence, the ladies working at their embroidery or play- 
ing on musical instruments. A reaction against the 
old love of dress had so completely set in that during 
the visits to Trianon only white muslin, or even cot- 
ton, dresses were worn, with large straw-hats and 
muslin veils. The change was too complete and too 
sudden not to meet with disapproval, and those who 
had most sharply blamed the Queen for her extrava- 
gance in dress now blamed the exaggeration of her 
simplicity, which, it was said, would ruin the Lyons 
silk-trade. The " Mesdames " criticized, and did not 
consider such negligent attire compatible with royal 
dignity; even the republican Ferrand, in his me- 
moirs, expresses rather shocked surprise on seeing 
" the Queen of France dressed in a crumpled cotton 
gown." 



142 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

The dress was liglit, cool, and convenient, allowing 
her to run about freely in the walks of Trianon and 
to enjoy the pastoral pleasures in which she de- 
lighted. When once Marie- Antoinette had taken a 
fancy, she was not easily dissuaded. Even in the 
royal palace of Versailles, when in the summer after- 
noons she escaped to Trianon, holding a light cane 
in her hand, and followed only by a servant in the 
royal livery, she wore the Trianon desJiahille — the 
white dress and straw hat. When living at Trianon 
she was surrounded by what she called her "society," 
a certain number of friends of both sexes whom she 
admitted to intimacy, and who went about with her. 
The King, "Monsieur," and the princesses came to 
supper and to spend the evening. The Comte d'Ar- 
tois was one of the privileged set who was admitted 
at all times ; but those who came as visitors all went 
away together in the evening, at a late hour, leaving 
only a few ladies to remain with the Queen. 

Popular rumor, however, was malevolent, and the 
absence of the King authorized the worst supposi- 
tions. Nevertheless, all reliable contemporary tes- 
timony absolves Marie- Antoinette from having ever 
been led into any actions which were not perfectly 
innocent; but she was always so confident as to 
her own pure intentions that she despised sus- 
picious appearances far too much. From first to 
last this was the great evil of her life, the cause of 
immense mischief, for which she paid dearly at a 
later period. 



UNFOUNDED RUMOES 143 

Not only was Marie- Antoinette absolutely averse 
to anything really wrong, but she did not even tol- 
erate in her presence any impropriety of language 
uttered around her. She was not opposed to gossip, 
either in the stories related to her or in the jests 
which, in fact, amused her ; but anything licentious 
was stopped at once, though some writers refer to the 
catalogue of her library, which is certainly open to 
criticism. But when the characteristics of Marie- An- 
toinette's habitual employments are remembered, it 
is evident that she never read these books, nor prob- 
ably even knew that they were in her possession; 
they were collected by her librarian on his own 
responsibility, without consulting the Queen. She 
did not care for any reading, and preferred every 
other occupation as a pastime. 

Among all those who were admitted into her inti- 
mate society, either at Trianon during the summer, 
or in the private apartments at Versailles in the 
winter, two writers of memoirs — Besenval and 
Lauzun — have attacked the Queen's reputation. 
Both had drawn upon themselves a humiliation 
which they fully deserved ; but as it is well known 
that 

He ne'er forgives who doth inflict the wrong, 

neither could forgive Marie- Antoinette for having 
peremptorily asserted her dignity as a woman more 
even than as a queen. The former, the Baron 
de Besenval, was lieutenant-colonel of the Swiss 



144 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

GrTiards, and being a gray-haired man of fifty, was 
looked upon as a sort of patriarch by the young 
Queen, who imagined that she might with complete 
impunity treat him with affectionate familiarity 
like a sort of grandfather. She had sincere friend- 
ship for Besenval, whose society was agreeable to 
her, and she freely showed that she liked him. 

To her utter amazement, he presumed upon her 
careless good nature so far as to throw himself on 
his knees at her feet with a full love declaration. 
The whole seemed too absurd in the Queen's eyes to 
be worth taking in earnest, and with indulgent con- 
tempt she merely said : " Eise, monsieur ; I shall not 
inform the King of what would throw you into per- 
manent disgrace." Besenval turned pale and stam- 
mered an apology, while the Queen, with the haughty 
air which she well knew how to assume, walked out 
of the room. 

Naturally Besenval was treated thenceforward 
with coolness, attributed in his memoirs to the 
Queen's caprices, but to which Madame Campan,^ to 
whom Marie-Antoinette related the incident, gives 
us the key. 

The adventure with the Due de Lauzun was more 
serious, and is shamefully disfigured in his memoirs, 
which have recently attracted attention, in conse- 
quence of a clever biography published by Lucien 
Percy. Lauzun was a young and attractive courtier 
of the time, well known for his profligate conduct 

1 First lady of the "bedcliamber. 



STORY OF A HEKON PLUME 145 

and almost unlimited excesses. He was nearly re- 
lated to the Due de Choiseul ; and this in itself was 
sufficient to attract the favorable notice of Marie- 
Antoinette, who admitted him into her intimate 
circle, notwithstanding the objections of Mercy,' 
founded on his bad reputation. It was, however, 
more especially during the evenings, in the apart- 
ments of the Princesse de Gu^menee, that the Queen 
frequently met Lauzun. One evening he appeared 
in military uniform, wearing a magnificent heron 
plume which Marie-Antoinette greatly admiredi 
With lamentable deficiency of tact, the Princesse de 
Guemenee suggested that Lauzun should present 
this plume to the Queen, which he hastened to do. 
The Queen, who had never imagined that he would 
dare to offer her what he had worn himself, was con- 
siderably annoyed and still more puzzled as to what 
she ought to do; finally she decided to accept the 
plume, to wear it once, and to call his attention to 
the fact. 

Certainly the proceeding was too gracious to be 
quite wise, but there was nothing that could justify 
the presumption of Lauzun. A few days later 
he asked for a private audience, which the Queen 
granted, as she would have done to any one of the 
same rank, Madame Campan, who was in waiting, 
remaining in the next room. A few minutes later 
the intervening door was suddenly opened by the 
Queen herself, who, in a raised and angry voice, ex- 
claimed: '''■ SorteSj monsieur!^ ("Leave the room, 



146 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

sir!") Lauzun bowed low and disappeared. The 
Queen was much agitated, and exclaimed: "That 
man shall never come again to my apartments." 

The Due de Lauzun became the intimate friend 
of the Due d'Orleans, and one of the worst enemies 
of Marie- Antoinette during the Revolution. He was 
known at that time as Due de Biron, having inherited 
the title from an uncle. In his memoirs he gives an 
account of the above scene, evidently disgracefully 
disfigured, and bearing the stamp of a coxcombry 
absolutely unworthy of a gentleman. The account 
given by Madame Campan in its perfect simplicity 
has evident probability, and seems to present the 
truth, while justifying Marie- Antoinette. 

Once only the fair Queen was in real danger, which 
she escaped through the chivalrous conduct of the 
hero of the romance, Comte Axel de Fersen, a 
young Swedish nobleman who alone had the honor 
of having touched the heart of Marie-Antoinette 
without taking advantage of a momentary senti- 
mental weakness. 

The Comte de Fersen was totally unlike the cour- 
tiers who gathered round the Queen. This differ- 
ence of character caught her attention, and then 
captivated her esteem, with a mixture of something 
more tender. Fersen was tall and handsome, gentle- 
manlike, but reserved in manner, without the grace 
and witty animation of the French courtiers ; grave, 
self-possessed, strictly honorable in every word, in 
every act — a sort of Sir Charles Grrandison, on whom 



PERILOUS FRIENDSHIP 147 

the Queen felt that she could rely as a friend, while 
feeling for him something more than friendship. A 
despatch addressed by the Swedish ambassador, 
Comte de Creutz, to Gustavus III initiates us into 
the particulars of this romantic incident : 

" I must confide to your Majesty that the young 
Count Fersen found such favor with the Queen that 
several people took umbrage. I must acknowledge 
that I cannot help thinking that she liked him ; I saw 
indications which were too sure to allow me to doubt. 
The conduct of the young Count Fersen was admi- 
rable in the modesty and reserve which he showed, 
and in his final determination of joining the war in 
America. His departure removed all danger, but evi- 
dently he required firmness to a degree very remark- 
able in a young man, to resist such fascination. The 
Queen could not take her eyes from him during the 
last days, and as she looked they filled with tears. I 
entreat your Majesty to keep this secret for her sake 
and that of the Senator Fersen.i When the Count's 
departure was known all the favorites were delighted. 
The Duchesse de Fitz- James said to him: 'What, 
monsieur! are you thus forsaking your conquest?' 
*If I had made any, I should not forsake it,' he re- 
plied. * I go from here free, and, unhappily, without 
causing any regret.' Your Majesty will acknowledge 
that this answer showed wisdom and prudence be- 
yond his years." 

Fersen was gone, but Marie-Antoinette had not lost 

1 The father of Count Axel de Fersen. 



148 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

a friend who, when evil days came, showed absolute 
devotion with the same discretion and the same ab- 
sence of all selfishness. 

When he returned from America, the sentimen- 
tal attraction which had temporarily moved Marie- 
Antoinette, in a manner which might have become 
perilous, had disappeared amid the terrible events of 
her daily life, which left her no leisure for romantic 
dreams. She knew, however, all the more how to 
appreciate a friend like Fersen, for whom she re- 
tained the gi*eatest confidence and esteem, with at- 
tachment of a different kind, but more valuable than 
what had characterized her first impressions. 

MeanwhUe the Queen tried every means of divert- 
ing her mind and of struggling against the inexora- 
ble ennui which devoured her life, and which the care 
of the poor little girl, whose birth had brought so 
much disappointment, could only partly dispel. 

Marie- Antoinette was passionately fond of every- 
thing appertaining to the stage, and the little theater 
which she had built at Trianon now occupied her 
thoughts. The decorations were now finished with 
a profusion of gilding which had entailed great ex- 
pense; the hangings were of blue moire silk looped 
up with gold cords, the seats of blue velvet. It 
was a little gem of its kind, and the actors of the 
Theatre Fran^ais were called for its inauguration; 
but when they had appeared on the boards of the 
miniature stage the Queen began to dream of getting 
up private theatricals and appearing there herself. 



THE THEATER OF TRIANON 149 

This plan was not received with favor either by 
Mercy or by Maria Theresa, who distinctly said that 
she had never seen snch amnsements end in a satis- 
factory manner; but the Queen persisted, and was 
delighted with the new diversion. The King did not 
disapprove, and even showed great interest, follow- 
ing the rehearsals, and being present at the perform- 
ances, where the King himself and the royal family 
had alone the right to appear as spectators. 

The plays in which Marie- Antoinette acted would 
not be known to our readers ; but according to the 
account of Mercy, who was admitted to a private 
box by special favor, she performed prettily, with 
infinite grace and piquancy. Other accounts are less 
laudatory, and may be more impartial ; for it is 
scarcely possible to imagine the majestic Marie- 
Antoinette playing well the part of a soubrette, 
which she liked to undertake. 

At first no one was admitted to these theatrical 
performances, with the exception of the royal fam- 
ily, and once only, as we have seen, the privileged 
Mercy. The actors were limited to the Polignac 
family and their intimate friends, with the Queen 
and the young Madame Elisabeth, who took small 
parts. Even Madame de Lamballe could not obtain 
permission to be present, and great was the anger of 
those excluded, who vainly pleaded the high posts 
which they filled, and their unquestionable rank, 
which seemed to entitle them to follow the Queen on 
all occasions. Poor Madame de Lamballe had now 

10* 



150 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

many opportunities of seeing how completely slie 
was set aside. She no longer resisted, but gradually 
withdrew from the court. She remained, however, 
sincerely and deeply attached to the Queen, who 
found her "faithful unto death" when evil days 
came and others fled. 

While Marie- Antoinette was intent on discovering 
new diversions to while away time, a great grief was 
in store for her — the death of her mother, the Em- 
press Maria Theresa, through an aggravated attack 
of an asthmatic affection which hitherto had not 
given cause for immediate alarm. In those days of 
slow communication the news of the death of the 
Empress came at the same time as that of her ill- 
ness. The King, knowing the deep affection of the 
Queen for her mother, shrank from the painful task 
of communicating the event to her, and requested the 
Abbe de Vermond to do so, saying that his own visit 
would follow that of the Abbe at an interval of one 
quarter of an hour. 

The grief of the Queen was extreme, and is thus 
expressed to her brother Joseph II: "Crushed as 
I am by the most dreadful misfortune, it is only 
through floods of tears that I can wi'ite to you. 
Oh, my brother, oh, my friend, you alone remain 
to me in a land which was and will always be so 
dear to me ! ' Spare yourself, take care of yourself ; 
you owe this to us all. I have only now to com- 
mend my sisters to your care; they have lost still 
more than I have; they will be very unhappy. 



DEATH OF MAEIA THERESA 151 

Adieu ! I cannot see what I write. Remember that 
we are your friends — your allies. Love me ! I em- 
brace you." 

Here stops the valuable journal of Mercy, and 
the daily register of every word, every act of Marie- 
Antoinette. Other and reliable information is within 
reach, but the regular and usually impartial narra- 
tive of Mercy, with the confidential correspondence 
between Maria Theresa and her faithful ambassador, 
cannot be replaced. 



CHAPTER IX 

Birth of the Dauphin — Joy of the King and Queen — Bankruptcy 
of the Prince de Guemenee — Its consequences — Duchesse de 
Polignac appointed State Governess of the " Children of 
France" — Visit of the King of Sweden — An unexpected 
guest at a royal dinner-table — Visit of the Grand Duke Paul 
of Russia and his consort — Etiquette concerning a bracelet — 
Death of the prime minister Maurepas — Appointment of Ca- 
lonne and its consequences — Combined economy and extra- 
vagance of Louis XVI — Purchase of RambouiUet and St. 
Cloud — Montreuil and Madame EUsabeth — " Pauvre Jacques" 
— Unpopularity of the Queen. 



THE birth of the long-expected Dauphin brought 
some comfort to Marie- Antoinette, although the 
Empress was denied the joy of an event which she 
had so earnestly desired. The young Prince was 
born October 22, 1781, three years after the little 
Madame Royale. The room was kept so quiet on 
this occasion that the Queen feared the bkth of an- 
other daughter, and when settled in her bed, she said 
to the King: "See how reasonable I am. I have 
asked no questions." 

The King, seeing that her anxiety ought not to be 
prolonged, then said, with his eyes full of happy 
tears : " Monsieur le Dauphin asks for admittance." 
The Queen with overpowering joy threw her arms 

152 



BERTH OF THE DAUPHIN 153 

around him, and the father and mother then freely 
shared their happiness and gratitude for the boon 
granted at last, after so long an expectancy. The 
Princesse de Gu6m6nee brought the child to the 
happy parents; when the Queen gave him back to 
her care, she said: "Take him — he belongs to the 
state ; but I will keep my daughter for myself." 

The son of the Comte d'Artois, the Due d'Angou- 
leme,^ had till then been considered as the heir pre- 
sumptive to the throne ; the bu'th of a dauphin was 
consequently not particularly welcome to his father, 
and the little Prince having said, "How small my 
cousin is, papa ! " the Comte d'Artois answered, with 
some bitterness : " The day will come when you will 
find him big enough!'' 

The poor child was not, however, destined to suc- 
ceed to his father, and by his early death was spared 
the dreadful fate of his brother, known by the nomi- 
nal title of Louis XVII. 

The Queen had in all four children. The Httle 
Duke of Normandy, who became dauphin after the 
death of his elder brother, was born in April, 1785 ; 
and the youngest daughter, Sophie, was born in 
July, 1786. She died, at the age of eleven months, 
in June, 1787. 

The Princesse de Gu6men6e did not long retain 
the honors appertaining to the care of the heir to 
the crown. Although separated from the Prince de 
Gruem^nee, she was his wife, and as such shared the 

1 Afterward married to Madame Eoyale. 



154 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

disgrace of Ms bankruptcy, which amounted to a 
financial catastrophe causing the ruin of innumera- 
ble victims, and such public indignation that the 
Princess had no resource but to send in her resig- 
nation. 

Every one supposed that the Comtesse (now 
Duchesse) de Polignac would be appointed to the 
vacant post of state governess to the " Children of 
France"; but, to general surprise, the Queen hesi- 
tated. Her brother, the Emperor Joseph, had ex- 
pressed strongly his unfavorable opinion of Madame 
de Polignac and her set, and the Queen herself was 
beginning to lose some of her delusions. But the 
friends of the Polignac family told her so plainly 
that the appointment was universally expected that 
with some unwillingness she gave her consent, and 
the Duchesse de Polignac was officially appointed 
to the coveted post, with the use of splendid apart- 
ments in the palace of Versailles. 

Notwithstanding some drawbacks and court wor- 
ries, Marie- Antoinjette was now happier than she had 
ever been before, and every one noted a marked 
improvement in her daily life, which had taken a 
far more serious turn. Her children engrossed her 
thoughts, and she no longer required incessant dissi- 
pation. She gave up high play, avoided debts, and 
was far more moderate in her amusements. 

About this time she received first the visit of the 
King of Sweden, Grustavus III, traveling under the 
name of the Comte de Haga, and afterward the fu- 



VISIT OF THE KING OP SWEDEN 155 

ture Emperor Paul of Eussia, traveling with his 
consort under the name of Comte and Comtesse 
du Nord. 

Grustavus was particularly fascinated by Marie- 
Antoinette, for whom he professed henceforward the 
most enthusiastic admiration, although the Queen 
was not very gracious to him ; in fact, the coldness 
of his reception at Versailles caused great displeasure 
at the court of Sweden. 

It is said that, with some absence of tact, he in- 
vited himself one day to dinner with the King and 
Queen. The latter immediately ordered that Madame 
Campan should be summoned. When she appeared 
the Queen desired her to see immediately the comp- 
troller of the household, and ascertain whether the 
dinner was worthy to be presented to Monsieur le 
Comte de Haga, and to have it increased if neces- 
sary. The King of Sweden protested that there 
would certainly be enough for him ; while Madame 
Campan, remembering the profusion of the royal 
dinners, was struck dumb with astonishment. The 
Queen looked displeased, and repeated her orders. 
When she had occasion afterward for the services 
of Madame Campan, the Queen asked why she had 
seemed so bewildered, adding that she ought to 
have understood her intention, which was that of 
making the King of Sweden feel that he had ta- 
ken a liberty. Madame Campan answered that the 
whole scene had seemed to her so " bourgeois " that 
she had thought of the mutton chops and omelet 



156 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

to which housewives in small private families had 
recourse to provide for an unexpected guest when 
the dinner was scanty ! The Queen was much amused, 
and told the King, who also laughed heartily. 

The Comte and Comtesse (Grand Duke Paul and 
his consort) seem to have been more refined and 
courtly in their manners than Gustavus. Like the 
King of Sweden, however, they refused the hospi- 
tality of the royal palace, for the sake of more 
liberty. The first visit of the Grand Duchess had 
been to the milliner, Mademoiselle Bertin, who per- 
formed a remarkable achievement for the presenta- 
tion to the Queen — a dress of brocade bordered with 
pearls on a hoop having six ells of circumference ! 

The Queen was much pleased with the Grand 
Duchess, with whom she was soon on the most 
friendly terms. The future Emperor Paul also 
showed the gi'eatest tact and courtesy, with which 
every one was charmed. The Grand Duchess had 
with her the Baroness d'Oberkirch (the "bosom 
friend" so characteristic of the period), whose 
charming memoirs give a detailed and graphic ac- 
count of the imperial visit. She seems to have been 
completely charmed by the Queen, and cannot say 
enough in praise of her beauty, her grace of man- 
ner, and her amiability. Marie-Antoinette multi- 
plied her attentions to the Grand Duchess. On the 
day of the first performance at the theater of Ver- 
sailles the Queen said, addressing her guest: "I 
think, Madame, that like myself you are rather 



ETIQUETTE CONCEENINa A BRACELET 157 

near-sighted. I always use a glass set in my fan; 
will you try this one?" 

The Grrand Duchess took the beautiful fan, adorned 
with diamonds, which the Queen handed to her, and 
after trial found the glass excellent. "I am de- 
lighted," said the Queen ; " and I hope you will keep 
it." "I accept it willingly," answered the Grand 
Duchess, " as it will enable me to see your Majesty 
better." 

When they visited the manufactory of Sevres, the 
Grrand Duchess was shown a splendid toilet-set 
adorned with gold. On examining it, she found her 
own device on each article; it was a present from 
the Queen. 

The Baroness d'Oberkirch relates a characteristic 
incident of etiquette. At the Queen's circle, after 
a gracious reception, Marie- Antoinette asked to look 
at a bracelet with the portrait of the G^rand Duchess 
which the Baroness wore. Madame d'Oberkirch 
took it off ; but nothing could be handed in a direct 
manner to the Queen. The Baroness opened her 
fan, laid the bracelet upon it, and tried to present 
it thus; but the weight broke the fan, and the 
bracelet fell to the floor. Madame d'Oberkirch, with 
the ready presence of mind of one accustomed to 
court etiquette, picked it up, and handed it to the 
Queen, saying : " Forgive me, Madame ; it is not 
myself; it is the Grand Duchess" — alluding to the 
portrait. This ingenious way of avoiding the diffi- 
culty was much admired by the bystanders. 



158 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

The Queen asked the Baroness to speak German, 
that she might see whether she had entirely forgotten 
the language. Madame d'Oberkirch obeyed, and the 
Queen remained thoughtful for a moment. "Yes," 
she then said, "I am glad to hear again the old 
Deutsch; it is a fine language — but French! — when 
spoken by my children, it seems to me the sweetest 
language in the world ! " 

Monsieur de Maurepas died shortly after the birth 
of the Dauphin, and all the Polignac party began to 
intrigue to obtain the nomination of Monsieur de 
Calonne as comptroller of the finances, the most im- 
portant post in the government, on account of the 
complicated and disastrous condition of the state 
funds. This most unfortunate choice was against 
the Queen's wish; but she bore the responsibihty in 
the sight of the nation, and when the consequences 
of the unprincipled mismanagement of the minister 
became evident, the hatred against the Queen became 
more and more apparent. 

The birth of the Duke of Normandy, which, by se- 
curing the succession to the crown, would at other 
times have caused great rejoicings, brought her full 
proof of the unfortunate change in public opinion. 

The King, who was considered to be economical, 
and who wrote down his private expenses to the 
last farthing, was yet, according to the familiar 
saying, "penny wise and pound foolish." He saved 
in trifles and spent large sums freely, unrestrained 
by Calonne, who was too much of a courtier to object 



MONTREUIL AND MADAME ELISABETH 159 

or to remind him of the condition of the state coffers, 
which did not possess the faculty of self -replenish- 
ment, like the purse of Fortunatus. 

The King purchased the estate of RambouiUet 
merely to procure for himself an increase of hunting- 
and shooting-grounds ; he purchased St. Cloud from 
the Due d'Orleans, which he gave to Marie-Antoi- 
nette for the sake of the grounds to be used for the 
royal children, as if they had not sufficient palaces 
already ! Repairs were intended at Versailles, which 
it might become neoessary to leave temporarily. The 
Revolution prevented the execution of all such plans; 
but meanwhile St. Cloud was bought, at a cost of 
many millions of francs. 

The fmancial catastrophe of the Prince de Gueme- 
nee had obliged the Princess to seU a house with 
beautiful grounds which she possessed at Montreuil, 
a suburb of Versailles. This the King bought for 
Madame Elisabeth ; it was to be her " Trianon," 
but she was not to sleep there till she had reached 
the age of twenty-five. The Revolution broke out 
before then. Nevertheless Madame Elisabeth went 
daily to Montreuil, where, in imitation of Marie- Antoi- 
nette, she established Swiss cows and a dairy, which 
was principally to be used for the poor childi'en of 
the neighborhood. But the young Swiss cow-keeper 
and dairyman, Jacques, seemed sad. What was the 
matter ! Why was he unhappy ? Jacques confessed 
that he had left his betrothed in his native moun- 
tains, and that he could not be comforted without 



160 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOIKETTE 

her. Of course this difficulty was soon settled, and 
Jacques was happily married to his love, who took 
charge of the dairy. 

Virtue, cows, and Swiss lovers, — here was enough 
to excite universal interest in that sentimental age ; 
and a pretty song called " Pauvre Jacques " became 
highly fashionable in aristocratic circles. 

But although Montreuil was forgiven to Madame 
Elisabeth, St. Cloud was not forgiven to the Queen, 
who became more and more unpopular. When, after 
the birth of the Duke of Normandy, she went to 
Paris for her thanksgiving service, the coldness with 
which she was received caused her the most painful 
surprise. She had wished to have the Dauphin with 
her, and his presence would probably have propiti- 
ated the crowd ; but " Madame " (the Comtesse de 
Provence) would accept no seat in the carriage but 
the one next the Queen, and the Dauphin could have 
no other, having precedence over " Madame." Conse- 
quently, Marie- Antoinette could not take her son 
with her; and wherever she went during the cere- 
monies of the day, she was received in dead silence. 
On reaching the Tuileries, she would not see the 
courtiers assembled to meet her, but quickly going 
up a back staircase to the rooms prepared for her 
reception, followed by Madame Elisabeth, she bm*st 
into tears, repeating: "But what have I done to 
them? "What have I done?" 

When she appeared at St. Cloud matters were stiU 
worse ; there were loud cries for the King and the 




ARMAND GASTON, CARDINAL DE ROHAN. 



AFTER RIGAUD, IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. 



UNPOPULARITY OF THE QUEEN 161 

Dauphin, dead silence for the Queen. When the 
waters of the park played, the populace habitu- 
ally said: "We are going to St. Cloud to see the 
fountains and the Austrian.^ 

The Queen had hoped that the bad management 
of Calonne would enable her to obtain the recall 
of Choiseul, but he died shortly after the birth of the 
Queen's second son, which she had herself announced 
to him in a gracious letter. 

Her mother was gone; Choiseul was gone; she 
was beginning to understand the real value of the 
Polignac friendship, and the price that she would 
have to pay for all that she had showered so blindly 
upon those who only sought for what she had to 
give. 

But an unforeseen and crushing blow was about 
to fall upon her. 



CHAPTER X 

A wonderful necMaee — Generosity of Lotiis XVI refused by 
Marie-Antoinette — An unworthy prelate — An adventuress 
connected with the reigning family of France — A cardinal 
duped — A moonlight scene m the park of Versailles — Gift 
of a rose — An extraordinary resemblance — Forged letters 
of the Queen — A prelate arrested in his pontifical robes — 
A trial concerning the highest nobUity of France — Indigna- 
tion of the Queen at the verdict — What was the truth? 



THE extraordinary intrigue known as the affair of 
"The Queen's Necklace" is extremely compli- 
cated in its details. It will be remembered that the 
court jewelers, Boehmer and Bassange, had already 
induced the Queen to make imprudent purchases of 
diamonds, to be paid by instalments, much to the 
displeasure of the Empress Maria Theresa and the 
anxiety of Mercy. Encouraged by this success, 
Boehmer had spent several years in collecting the 
most perfect diamonds that could be found, which he 
set in a marvelous necklace of several rows, per- 
fectly unique of its kind. This necklace, for which 
he asked 1,600,000 francs,^ was submitted to the 
King's approval. Louis XVI was delighted with 
the splendid jewels, and, notwithstanding the enor- 

1 About $320, 000. It must not be forgotten that this sum represented 
a, much larger amount at that time than in the present day. 

162 



A WONDERFUL NECKLACE 163 

mous price, was inclined to present them to the 
Queen. But Marie-Antoinette, who had learned 
prudence and moderation with riper years, replied 
that she could not consent to the expenditure of 
such a large sum for such a purpose; that she had 
enough diamonds for all occasions; and that the sum 
would be far better employed in building a ship of 
war. 

The jeweler showed the most desperate distress at 
this refusal, and again and again vainly sought to 
persuade the Queen, who was resolute in her refusal. 
He tried to offer the necklace to all the courts of 
Europe, but everywhere the high price caused re- 
jection. His whole fortune was compromised in this 
venture, and yet he could not bear the thought of 
dividing such a chef-d'oeuvre, and thus destroying its 
merit, although there seemed to be no other resource. 
He determined to make one more effort, and having 
obtained an audience of the Queen, he threw himself 
on his knees before her, with the most vehement pro- 
testations, declaring that he was a ruined man, that 
he would be dishonored, and that if she did not help 
him he had no resource but putting an end to his 
life. The Queen with some anger replied that as 
she had not ordered the necklace, she could not be 
responsible for his misfortunes; that she had re- 
fused it when the King offered to give it to her ; and 
that she would hear no more about it ; that she was 
much displeased at having had to endure such a 
scene. 



164 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

Some time afterward the Queen was told that 
Boehmer was making fresh attempts to sell his neck- 
lace, and she desired Madame Campan to ask him 
what its fate had been. Madame Campan, having 
met Boehmer, made the inquiry, and was told that 
he had been so fortunate as to sell it at Constanti- 
nople for the use of the favorite Sultana. 

The Queen expressed great pleasure on hearing 
the news, and thought no more of the necklace. 

But meanwhile a disastrous intrigue was brewing 
in the dark, of which the Queen could have no sus- 
picion. 

The "Great Almoner" of France, who had the 
highest position in the King's chapel, was at that 
time the Cardinal Prince de Rohan, who owed his 
high dignity in the church to his illustrious name 
and the influence of his powerful family, rather than 
to his very deficient virtues. 

Although a cardinal, a bishop, a priest, the Prince 
de Rohan had nothing clerical appertaining to him 
beyond the splendor of his pontifical robes, the 
priceless lace of his rochets, and the gems which 
adorned his ecclesiastical insignia. His life was far 
from being exemplary, and his tastes were luxurious 
to excess; so that notwithstanding his large reve- 
nues he was constantly in debt and difficulty. He 
had a palace at Saverne, where he lived in splendor, 
and a house of great magnificence in Paris, where he 
spent a portion of the year. 

Of noble appearance, a gentleman , from head to 



AN UNWORTHY PRELATE 165 

foot, with, fascinating manners and attractive con- 
versation, the Cardinal de Rohan had every advan- 
tage that could be attributed to a princely courtier 
of the time, but nothing of what should characterize 
a priest. 

Eohan had been ambassador at Vienna for some 
time, and had given infinite trouble to Maria The- 
resa, who, in every letter, complains bitterly of his 
extravagance, his licentious conduct, his intrigues 
and double-dealing. At length, she was so utterly 
tired of having at her court such a perpetual source 
of scandal, that she insisted on his recall, which was 
effected in a great measure through the influence of 
Marie- Antoinette. As Dauphine she had been deeply 
offended by Rohan, who, in a pungently witty letter 
addressed to the Due d'Aiguillon, had caricatured 
the conduct of Maria Theresa at the time of the di- 
vision of Poland. This letter had been given by 
d'Aiguillon to Madame du Barry, who had read it 
aloud, amid peals of laughter, to the guests at one 
of her suppers. 

This sort of offense, attended by an insult to ber 
mother, was never forgotten or forgiven by Marie- 
Antoinette. We have seen how she dismissed 
d'Aiguillon when she became queen; she also ob- 
tained the recall of Rohan, but she could not pre- 
vent him from obtaining the appointment of Great 
Almoner to the crown through the influence of his 
family, who must not be offended. 

Nevertheless, Marie- Antoinette perpetually made 



166 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

him feel her displeasure by treating him with a 
marked degree of coldness, which caused deep hu- 
miliation to the ambitious prelate, who dreamed of 
governing the country as prime minister, and sooner 
or later playing the part of a Eichelieu. 

He felt that the enmity of the Queen would pre- 
vent this unless he could find some means of in- 
gratiating himself with her; but hitherto every 
attempt had proved fruitless. The Queen spoke to 
him only on ceremonious occasions, and limited all 
access to the court on his part to his official duties. 
She had even excluded him from the gardens of 
Trianon when they were illuminated in honor of the 
Grand Duke Paul. One of the keepers who was in- 
duced to admit him was punished, and would have 
been dismissed if the intercession of protectors had 
not determined Marie- Antoinette to show indulgence. 

The aversion of the Queen was deeply galling to 
the Cardinal's pride ; his vanity was also vexed by 
the contemptuous indifference of a pretty woman, 
which he could hardly believe to be sincere. The 
age was one of high-flown romance ; the Cardinal de 
Rohan was unprincipled, sentimental, and disposed 
to credulity. 

His interest was roused by a visit that he received 
from a young and attractive woman calling herself 
the Comtesse de La Motte-Valois, and claiming to be 
a lineal descendant of Henry II, King of France. 
Her claims had been admitted by the court genealo- 
gist, and the papers that she showed were authentic; 



AN ADVENTURESS 167 

she was really the lineal descendant of Henry II, but, 
as may be supposed, by a natural son. The family 
had been reduced to the greatest poverty, and lived 
as peasants with their four children. One day, as 
the little Jeanne, with the assistance of one of her 
sisters, was carrying a bundle of dry sticks for the 
fire of their wretched cottage, she was noticed by 
the Marquise de BoulainviUiers, who, on hearing her 
history from the cure of the parish, was interested 
in the child, and had the three little girls educated in 
a school at Passy. The boy was prepared for the 
navy, and through the influence of the kind bene- 
factress the King granted a pension of eight hundred 
francs to each child. Jeanne was then taken as a 
sort of companion by a Madame de Surmont at Bar- 
sur-Aube. There she met the Comte de La Motte, 
who belonged to a regiment of gendarmerie, in which 
at that time the privates held the position of gentle- 
men and ranked as officers. Although he was as 
poor as herself, the Comte de La Motte was induced 
to marry her; and in 1782 the pair of adventurers 
came to Paris, where they lived in poverty and debt, 
selling and pawning what they had, even to their 
clothes. In the beginning of 1784 Madame de La 
Motte thought of imploring the pity of the Cardinal 
de Rohan, and of inducing him to present a petition 
to the King. Madame de La Motte was pretty, in- 
sinuating, coquettish. The Cardinal was captivated 
and was much interested in the miserable situation 
of a descendant of the royal Valois. 



168 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

He advised Madame de La Motte to apply to the 
Queen, at the same time expressing his regret at his 
inability to assist her in this, and betraying his own 
bitter feelings with regard to the persistent aversion 
shown to him by Marie-Antoinette. Madame de La 
Motte, who was a perfect demon of intrigue, at once 
saw the weak point, and determined to make use of 
it. She never succeeded in obtaining admission to 
the Queen, but was received by " Madame " (Comtesse 
de Provence), whose intercession obtained the grant 
of a small pension. 

Madame de La Motte, however, persuaded the 
Cardinal that she had been received several times 
by the Queen, who had treated her with the greatest 
kindness, and not only had shown her the warmest 
interest, but had evidently taken a great fancy to 
her, and had written to her confidentially. 

These letters, fabricated by an accomplice called 
Eetaux de Villette, ought to have awakened the Car- 
dinal's suspicions; but he was fascinated, infatuated. 
Madame de La Motte told the Cardinal that she had 
spoken of him to the Queen; that she had succeeded 
in removing unfavorable impressions; and that the 
Queen had desired her to request him to write his 
justification and transmit it to her. The Cardinal, 
delighted, drew up an elaborate explanation of his 
conduct, which Madame de La Motte undertook to 
give into the Queen's hands. A few days later she 
brought a note which was said to come from the 
Queen, whose handwriting had been imitated, in 




COMTESSE DE LA MOTTE. 



A CARDINAL DUPED 169 

which she expressed her satisfaction at his explana- 
tion, and promised to inform him when she saw the 
possibility of granting him a private audience. The 
note concluded with the significant words : " Be 
discreet." 

A supposed correspondence now began between 
the Queen and the Cardinal. The forged letters 
constantly expressed need of money for different 
purposes. The Cardinal, utterly blind in his con- 
fidence, hastened to send the sums required, and 
Madame de La Motte thus pocketed 120,000 livres ! 

With all his infatuation, however, the Cardinal 
was beginning to express surprise at the contrast 
between the graciously affectionate letters purport- 
ing to come from the Queen and the haughty cold- 
ness of her demeanor whenever his duties called 
him into her presence. Madame de La Motte had 
an explanation always ready; but nevertheless the 
Cardinal began to be troubled in his mind, and Ma- 
dame de La Motte saw that some new piece of trick- 
ery must be devised to dispel vague doubts which 
might develop into suspicion. 

Her husband and accomplice. La Motte, while 
walking in the Palais Eoyal garden, had noticed a 
young woman whose face and figure recalled the 
Queen in a marked manner. He easily discovered 
that she was a person of bad reputation, named 
d'Oliva, who lived in a poor lodging near the church 
of St. Eustache. He followed her, visited her, and 
finally announced that a lady of rank, a countess, 



170 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

who had heard of her, would call on her the next 
day. 

Madame de La Motte appeared, and had no diffi- 
culty in imposing upon the poor girl. She showed 
her the Queen's supposed letters ; spoke of her Maj- 
esty's entire confidence in herself (Madame de La 
Motte) ; and stated that she had the duty of discov- 
ering some one who would undertake a mission the 
nature of which would be explained in due time. 
Madame de La Motte had thought that Mademoi- 
selle d'Oliva would be the very person required for 
this task, and if she would perform it she would re- 
ceive 15,000 livres from Madame de La Motte and 
a present of much greater value from the Queen. 

Mademoiselle d'Oliva was not scrupulous, and 
felt only great delight at such good fortune, pro- 
fessing her willingness to do anything that was 
required. 

The next day Madame de La Motte took her to a 
small inn at Versailles, where she dressed her in a 
white gown and arranged her hair with a white lace 
handkerchief such as the Queen wore. She then 
gave her instructions. Mademoiselle d'Oliva was to 
follow Madame de La Motte that evening at a late 
hour to the park of Versailles ; there she was to go 
into a "bosquet"^ which would be shown to her. 
She would see a tall man in a long, dark-gray coat 
come toward her; she would then give him a box 

1 In the park of Versailles are a number of small inclosed gardens, 
or shrubberies, called "bosquets." 



GIFT OF A EOSE 171 

with the Queen's portrait and a rose; adding in a 
low voice, " You know what this means." 

Mademoiselle d'Oliva, confidently believing that 
the whole scene was some jest or theatrical play got 
up by the Queen, had only one thought — to act her 
part in a satisfactory manner. 

Meanwhile, Madame de La Motte had told the 
Cardinal that the Queen would see him that evening 
in one of the bosquets,^ which would be shown to 
him in due time. 

At the appointed hour the Cardinal, in anxious 
expectation, went on the terrace ; after waiting for 
some time, Madame de La Motte, wearing a black 
domino, came hastily toward him, saying that the 
Queen was much vexed; that the princesses, her 
sisters-in-law, had offered to accompany her; but 
that nevertheless she would try to escape for a mo- 
ment, and, short as the time must be, she would give 
him proofs of - her good will. Madame de La Motte 
then directed him to the bosquet where Mademoi- 
selle d'Oliva was stationed. 

The hour was late, the night was dark, and the 
Cardinal could see only a shadowy figure in a 
white dress moving toward him. The height and 
appearance seemed to be those of the Queen. The 
Cardinal bowed low, while the figure, coming near 
to him, held out a rose and a small box, with the mur- 

1 Opinions are divided as to which bosquet was used for this 
scene. Some suppose it was the one known as "Les Bains d'Apol- 
lon," others say " Le bosquet de la Reine." 



172 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

mured words : " You know what this means." Im- 
mediately Madame de La Motte came up in haste. 
" Quick ! quick ! " she cried, " here comes * Madame ' 
with the Comtesse d'Artois ! " The white figure flit- 
ted away, and the Cardinal was convinced that he 
had seen the Queen, whose portrait was on the box. 
This scene took place on July 28, 1784. 

In a short time Madame de La Motte brought the 
Cardinal more letters, which were said to come from 
the Queen, in which she asked for 150,000 livres for 
people in whom she took an interest. The Cardinal 
immediately sent the sum; and the audacious ad- 
venturess then went to Bar-sur-Aube, where she as- 
tonished all those who had witnessed her penury by 
her display of wealth and luxury. 

But all this was only the prologue to her great 
plan — the appropriation to herself of the famous 
necklace of which all the world talked, and at the 
same time of the reward promised by the jewelers 
to any one who would procure its sale. 

On January 21, 1785, Madame de La Motte, who 
now played the " grande dame," told Boehmer's part- 
ner that the Queen had a great longing for the 
necklace, but that she did not wish to treat with 
the jewelers in a direct manner, and would employ 
the good offices of an illustrious personage as nego- 
tiator. Of course this illustrious nobleman was 
the Cardinal de Rohan, whom Madame de La Motte 
had persuaded by forged letters to believe that the 
Queen wished to buy the necklace unknown to the 



FORGED LETTERS OF THE QUEEN 173 

King, and would pay for it by instalments out of 
her own funds ; and that, wishing to give the Car- 
dinal a striking proof of her friendly feelings toward 
him, she had appointed him to negotiate the matter 
for her. He would receive an authorization to act 
for the Queen, written and signed by her own hand, 
which would be a sufficient guarantee. 

The Cardinal did not lose a moment in his desire 
to satisfy th© Queen, and on the 29th of January the 
agreement was drawn up between the Cardinal and 
the jewelers for the sale of the necklace: the price — 
1,600,000 livres — to be paid in four instalments, in 
four periods of four months each. 

On the 31st of January the jewelers returned to 
the Cardinal, who showed them the contract with the 
word, "Approuve," and the signature, " Marie- Antoi- 
nette de France," both, of course, forged by the ha- 
bitual accomplice of Madame de La Motte — Retaux 
de Villette. 

This signature alone ought to have roused the 
Cardinal's suspicions. Although the jewelers might 
be excused for ignorance of court usage, a man of 
the Cardinal's rank must have known that queens, 
and even royal princesses, only sign their Christian 
names, without any addition. At all events, an arch- 
duchess of Austria could not be supposed to sign 
" de France." The blindness and infatuation of the 
unfortunate Cardinal are perfectly inconceivable. 

The jewelers, in great joy and with full confi- 
dence, gave the necklace into the hands of the Car- 



174 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

dinal, who on February 1, 1785, took it to tlie small 
lodging whicli Madame de La Motte occupied in 
Place Dauphine^ at Versailles (for her display of 
wealth was made elsewhere). The Cardinal had 
just given the jewel-case into her hands when the 
Queen's confidential servant was announced. Ma- 
dame de La Motte requested the Cardinal to go be- 
hind a door with glass panes, through which he 
could see what took place. A loud voice cried in 
a tone of authority, "From the Queen!" A man 
wearing her livery appeared ; Madame de La Motte, 
with every sign of deference, gave the jewel-case 
into his hands, and he immediately retired. This 
man was no other than Retaux de Villette, the ac- 
complice of the La Motte couple, and the robbery 
was now accomplished ! 

The necklace was broken up, and the stones were 
sold separately in England, as M. Campardon, in his 
exhaustive work on the " The Queen's Necklace," has 
abundantly proved by documents of undoubted au- 
thenticity. 

The 30th of July had been appointed for the pay- 
ment of the first instalment of the purchase money. 
The Queen gave no sign, and the jewelers noticed 
with alarm that she never wore the necklace. They 
determined to remind her of the fatal date, and 
Boehmer took an opportunity of presenting to the 
Queen a petition as she came out of the chapel after 
mass. The Queen then read, with great surprise, 

1 Now called Place Hoche. 



FOEGED LETTEES OF THE QUEEN 175 

the jeweler's respectful congratulations on her being 
now " in possession of the most beautiful diamonds 
in Europe," with the hope that she would " not for- 
get him." 

"What can he mean? The man must be mad!" 
was the remark that she made to Madame Campan, 
as she read the petition aloud in her private library. 

Madame Oampan received orders to summon 
Boehmer and clear up the matter, which she has- 
tened to do, in her own private house, as she had 
finished her time of waiting on the Queen. 

Boehmer then told her that his accounts had not 
been settled as she supposed, and that a large sum 
was still due to him, as the Queen had secretly pur- 
chased his necklace ; but that he had received orders 
to say that it had been sold at Constantinople for 
the Sultana. 

The whole story of the Cardinal de Rohan and 
the papers signed by the Queen was revealed to 
Madame Campan, who advised Boehmer to relate all 
to one of the ministers, the Baron de Breteuil, who 
had charge of the crown diamonds. Instead of fol- 
lowing this sensible advice, he asked an audience of 
the Queen, which she refused till the whole matter 
was revealed to her by Madame Campan. She then 
sent for Boehmer and demanded a full explanation. 
It was in vain that with intense astonishment and 
indignation she declared that the whole was a piece 
of duplicity with which she had nothing to do. The 
jeweler repeated: "Madame, it is impossible to 



176 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

continue any further mystery. Please to acknow- 
ledge that you have my necklace, and come to my 
assistance, or my bankruptcy will make everything 
public." 

When Boehmer had left her, the Queen was in a 
state of violent agitation, and she sent immediately 
for the Abbe de Vermond and the Baron de Bre- 
teuil. Both were personal enemies of the Cardinal, 
and their indignation increased that which was felt 
by the Queen. There is no mention of Mercy, who 
was probably absent, but whose wary prudence 
might have prevented hasty measures. The Queen 
was extremely excited, declaring vehemently that all 
France and all Europe should know the truth, and 
that rank and titles should not serve to conceal 
vices; that she would have the Cardinal who had 
dared to compromise his sovereign's wife publicly 
unmasked. Madame Campan, much alarmed at her 
agitation, entreated her not to act hastily, but to 
take the surest advice. She was, however, silenced. 

The following Sunday was a great feast of the 
Catholic Church — the Assumption (August 15). 
The Cardinal, wearing his pontifical robes, was 
about to go to the chapel when he was summoned 
into the King's presence, in his private room, where 
he found the King, the Queen, and three of the 
ministers. 

The King at once addressed him : 

" Have you bought diamonds from Boehmer ? " 

"Yes, sire." 




DIAMOND NECKLACE. 

One Third Original Size, 

FROM AN ENGRAVING BY PERMISSION OF PLON, NOURRIT ET CIE. 



FOEaED LETTERS OF THE QUEEN 177 

"What have you done with them ? " 

"I thought they had been transmitted to the 
Queen." 

" Who gave you such a commission ? " 

" A lady called the Comtesse de La Motte-Valois, 
who presented to me a letter from the Queen, and I 
thought to obey the Queen's pleasure in undertaking 
the negotiation." 

The Queen, who was nervously toying with her fan, 
here interrupted him, asking how he could possibly 
suppose that after eight years, during which time she 
had constantly avoided even speaking to him, she 
should choose him for such a negotiation ? 

The Cardinal, utterly abashed, then said : " I see 
that I have been most painfully deceived, I will pay 
for the necklace. My wish to please your Majesty 
fascinated me; I saw no trickery, and I am grieved." 

He then drew from a pocket-book a supposed letter 
from the Queen to Madame de La Motte. 

The King took the letter, and after looking at it 
exclaimed : " This is neither the Queen's handwriting 
nor her signature. How is it possible that a prince 
of the house of Rohan, the Grreat Almoner of the 
crown, should not know that queens sign only their 
Christian names, or suppose that the Queen would 
sign, * Marie- Antoinette de France ' ? " 

The Cardinal seemed thunderstruck; he turned 
pale, and repeated several times : " I have been 
deceived, sire; I will pay for the necklace; I beg 
pardon of both your Majesties." 



178 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

The King said : " I wish for your justification ; I 
do not want to find you guilty. Explain to me the 
meaning of all this negotiation with Boehmer, these 
assurances, these letters." 

The Cardinal, greatly agitated, seemed as if he 
could not stand, and holding by a table, as if he 
feared to fall, he said falteringly: "Sire, I am too 
much moved to be able to answer your Majesty 
properly." 

The King desired him to go into an inner room, 
where he would find writing-materials, and there to 
write his justification. In a few minutes he reap- 
peared with a paper containing a few incomprehen- 
sible lines. 

The King then said: "You may retire, but you 
will be arrested on leaving this room." 

The Cardinal then replied in earnest supplication : 
"Sire, I will always obey the King's orders, but I 
entreat your Majesty to spare me the humiliation of 
being arrested before the whole court and wearing 
my pontifical robes." 

" It must be," said Louis XYI ; " it is my duty as 
a husband and a king." 

The Cardinal left the room in consternation, and 
as he passed into the great " Galerie des Griaces," or 
Hall of Mirrors, where the courtiers were assembled 
to follow the King and Queen to the mass in the 
chapel, the Baron de Breteuil exclaimed in a loud 
voice : " By order of the King ! Arrest the Cardinal 
de Rohan ! " 



A PEEL ATE ARRESTED IN HIS PONTIFICAL ROBES 179 

A young lieutenant of the guards stepped forward, 
amid the general astonishment, and was followed by 
the Cardinal, who had recovered his presence of 
mind and majestic demeanor. He walked down the 
long gallery, through the rows of amazed courtiers ; 
but on leaving it, he saw his servant, to whom he 
spoke hastily in German ; then, turning to the young 
officer, he asked him for a pencil. The young man, 
who was awe-struck at his mission, thoughtlessly 
gave the pencil ; the Cardinal wrote a few words on 
a leaf of his pocket-book, which he gave to the ser- 
vant. This was an order to his private secretary to 
burn all his papers, which was done immediately 
before they could be seized by the lieutenant of 
police, who came too late. 

The first impression of both the King and Queen 
had been that the Cardinal had used the Queen's 
name to appropriate the necklace for his own pur- 
poses and the payment of his own debts. This, as 
we have seen, was a mistake ; the Cardinal had been 
foolish and credulous, but in no wise dishonest. The 
Prime Minister, Vergennes, more prudent than the 
Queen's too zealous advisers, had urged the wisdom 
of clearing up the matter thoroughly before proceed- 
ing to extreme measures; but the Queen was too 
angry to temporize ; the King was equally indignant, 
and much moved by her tears and her distress. 

The Cardinal was taken to the Bastille, where 
every mark of consideration was shown to him. 
Madame de La Motte was arrested at Bar-sur-Aube ; 



180 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

her husband managed to escape to England ; Eetaux 
de Villette tried to cross the frontier, but was caught 
on French ground and taken to the Bastille. Not a 
word was as yet known of the supposed correspon- 
dence between the Cardinal and the Queen, nor of 
the episode of Mademoiselle d'Oliva. The answers 
of the various culprits when questioned, however, 
caused the arrest of the latter. The King had given 
the Cardinal the choice of abiding by his sovereign 
will and pleasure, or of accepting a trial in Parlia- 
ment. He chose the latter. 

The greater number of contemporary writers 
blame the court for having allowed the trial, where 
the Queen's name would be bandied from one to an- 
other, and assert that the affair ought to have been 
hushed up on the promise of the Cardinal to pay the 
jewelers. But modern writers object that calumny 
would then have fastened on the Queen, who would 
have had no means of justification; whereas her 
complete innocence and unconsciousness were proved 
without possibility of doubt, in the course of the pro- 
ceedings, by the confessions of Retaux de Villette, 
who pleaded guilty as to the forgeries of the letters 
and the signature, " Marie- Antoinette de France"; 
and of Mademoiselle d'Oliva, who related the whole 
scene of the bosquet. Meanwhile, the Prince de 
Oonde, who had married a princess of Rohan, and all 
the members of that family, saw only an insult to 
their name in the arrest and attainder for high trea- 
son of the Cardinal de Rohan, while the greater part 



* INDIGNATION OF THE QUEEN AT THE VEEDICT 181 

of the nobility and clergy took the same view. 
When the trial began all the princes and princesses 
of Eohan, dressed in deep mourning, stood in the hall 
through which the judges and advocates must pass. 
The excitement in the general world was intense, 
and animosity toward the Queen was the prevailing 
feeling. 

The sentence was anxiously expected, and the 
complete acquittal of the Cardinal was hailed with 
universal joy. The following is a summary of the 
result of the trial with the various headings : 

The Cardinal was declared not guilty. 

The letters and signatures of the Queen were 
proved to be forgeries. 

Retaux de Villette was banished from the kingdom. 

Mademoiselle d'Oliva was dismissed. 

The Comte de La Motte was sentenced, by default, 
to the galleys. 

The Comtesse de La Motte was sentenced to be 
publicly whipped, to be branded with the letter V^ 
on both shoulders, and to be imprisoned for life. 

The acquittal of the Cardinal was considered by 
the Queen to be a personal insult to herself, and she 
received the intelligence with floods of tears. Most 
of the royalist writers take the same view. 

And yet, if the matter be examined with cool 
impartiality, it was only an act of justice to acquit 
the Cardinal. He had been a foolish, presumptuous 
dupe — but still a dupe; he had firmly believed that 

1 Voleuse (thief). 

12* 



182 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

he was acting according to tlie Queen's orders, and 
that he had seen her during the night scene in the 
bosquet. He had been guilty of no dishonesty, 
and had taken no pecuniary advantage to himself. 
And, alas ! the Queen had often been guilty of such 
acts of imprudence as to justify, in some degree, his 
credulity in this instance. 

That the Queen should feel outraged and insulted 
by the supposition of the scene in the bosquet was 
only natural ; but there was nothing here that came 
within the jurisdiction of a court of justice. That 
the Cardinal should have believed that the Queen, who 
had never concealed her dislike for him, had consented 
to a moonlight flirtation in the park of Versailles was 
absurd and presumptuous ; no one could blame the 
Queen for showing resentment ; but there was here 
no misdemeanor amenable to the law of the land. 

As for the wretched woman who had been the 
prime mover in the wicked conspiracy, her punish- 
ment was certainly sufficiently severe. The sentence 
was not carried out without great difficulty; the 
struggles and convulsions of the unhappy creature 
were awful to witness. 

Some months later she managed to escape from 
the Salpetriere prison, and joined her husband in 
London, where she wrote infamous libels against the 
Queen which professed to be her own justification. 

The King required of the Cardinal to send in his 
resignation of the post of G-reat Almoner, and to 
retire from the court. He spent some time at the 



THE CAEDINAL DE ROHAN'S AFTER-LIFE 183 

Abbey of Marmoutier, near Tours; then returned 
to his episcopal town of Strasburg, where he seems 
to have led a reformed life. During the Revolution 
he crossed the Ehine and remained in that portion of 
the diocese which was on the German side. He be- 
haved with noble generosity to all the emigres who 
were in need of assistance, and redeemed the past 
by showing many unsuspected virtues. He made a 
thoroughly Christian end in 1803. 



CHAPTER XI 

The last theatrical performance at Trianon — The Queen now 
entirely devoted to her children — ^She perseveres unfortun- 
ately in her Austrian policy — Her amiable disposition — The 
old keeper at Trianon — Madame Vigee-Lebrun, the artist — 
The beauty of the Queen — Anecdotes — Affectionate inter- 
course with Madame EUsabeth — Death of the Uttle Princesse 
Sophie — Strange prophecy of Cazotte — Painting by Madame 
Lebrun — Alarming condition of the Dauphin — Political diffi- 
culties and comphcations. 

THE theater of Trianon was preparing the play of 
the " Barber of Seville " ^ at the very time of the 
Cardinal's sudden arrest. The play was acted four 
days later, the Queen performing Bosina. The 
invitations had been unusually extended in conse- 
quence of the flattery of the few who had been pre- 
viously admitted, but this was the last performance 
at Trianon. 

Henceforward the Queen would have no time for 
such amusements, and her mind would be engrossed 
by other cares — the Revolution was looming in 
the future ! 

But immediately after the trial she dreamed only 
of driving away thought. Mercy notes that the stay 
at Fontainebleau which followed was not less " dis- 
sipated " than the preceding visits. 

1 From which Eossini took the subject of his celebrated opera. 

184 



THE QUEEN AND HER AUSTRIAN POLICY 185 

Marie- Antoinette was now thirty, and yet Mercy 
still speaks of her ignorance and of her disgust for all 
serious matters. Nevertheless she persisted in her in- 
terference when, more than ever, she should have tried 
to disappear from notice. She continued her unfor- 
tunate Austrian policy, which had already caused so 
much mischief. She had warmly taken the part of 
her sister Caroline, Queen of Naples, who was god- 
mother to her second son, but whose life was noted 
for its publicly scandalous incidents. Caroline had 
sacrificed her husband's kingdom to Austria, and 
the Cardinal de Bernis, French envoy at Rome, 
wrote to the Prime Minister, Vergennes, to "take 
care lest Europe should suspect that the Austrian 
influence was as predominant at Versailles as at 
Naples." 

Unhappily, her brother, Joseph II, was engaged in 
a war against Holland, and Marie-Antoinette pas- 
sionately took his part, trying to induce France to 
act with him as a consequence of the alliance. 
Neither the King nor the ministers wished to do 
so; but the Queen was under pressure from her 
brother, and from Mercy, acting in his name. She 
earnestly pleaded for the cooperation of French 
troops; but the ministers did not see why French 
blood should be shed and French lives sacrificed for 
the sole benefit of Austria. 

"Madame, I am speaking to the mother of the 
Dauphin, and not to the sister of the Emperor," 
said Vergennes resolutely. 



186 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

There was a violent scene in the King's presence 
until Vergennes tendered his resignation on the 
spot. The struggle continued for many months, and 
produced the worst possible impression outside of 
the court. Vergennes, as a compromise, sent fifteen 
millions of livres to the Emperor, but refused troops. 
This sum was immensely exaggerated, and the Queen 
was accused of " ruining France " to send money to 
her brother ; whereas she had wished for troops, not 
money. She was incessantly led to interfere by 
those who were her most trusted advisers, notwith- 
standing her own unwillingness and her aversion for 
political questions. She was reproached for frivolity, 
and was induced to believe that she was shrinking 
from a duty when she tried to avoid playing a part 
for which she was unfitted by nature, and for which 
nothing in her education or previous habits had pre- 
pared her. Although extremely intelligent, she pos- 
sessed but little general information ; her mind had 
not been cultivated ; she was influenced principally 
by her affections and by her vivid imagination. 

The political interference of women, especially 
when prompted and guided by a foreign nation, is 
at all times so unpopular in France that the continu- 
ance of her past acts of frivolity would have caused 
less mischief; and this was the more to be regretted 
as in other respects the Queen was now free from 
anything deserving blame or even criticism. 

After the first reaction or bravado following the 
great humiliation of the necklace, Marie-Antoinette 



ENTIRELY DEVOTED TO HER CHILDREN 187 

became engrossed with her children and her maternal 
duties, which she performed in the most exemplary- 
manner. She was present at the lessons of their 
teachers, although they were necessarily tedious, be- 
ing only elementary ; she herself examined their 
tasks, and made them repeat what they had to learn. 
She consented to retrenchments and reforms in her 
household; she avoided high play and games of 
mere chance ; she was less exclusive in her friend- 
ships. Her intimacy, even with Madame de Poli- 
gnac, had. cooled considerably ; she had reason to 
complain of the political opinions and style of 
many of the habitual guests of her friend ; and for 
other but no less stringent causes she objected to 
the incessant presence of Monsieur de Vaudreuil, 
whom she personally disliked, and whose intimacy 
with Madame de Polignac she disapproved of as a 
cause of public scandal. But when the Queen ex- 
pressed her displeasure at the society which she met 
in Madame de Polignac's apartments, the Duchess 
coolly answered: "Because your Majesty honors me 
with your presence, there is surely no reason to ex- 
clude my friends." 

This speech was tolerably insolent, as Madame de 
Polignac owed everything, and far more than ought 
to have been, to the Queen's kindness and direct in- 
terference. The Queen was deeply wounded, but 
wished to avoid all public gossip and scandal; so she 
silently and quietly withdrew from society in which 
she could find no further pleasure. From time to 



188 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

time she sent to ask for the names of the persons 
assembled; when they were satisfactory she appeared 
for a short time, or abstained, according to circum- 
stances. 

She now more generally spent the evening with 
the Comtesse d'Ossun, her dame dWour, or " keeper 
of the robes." Here she found far more deference 
and respect and more disinterested proceedings ; 
her excessive kindness was not preyed upon, as 
had been the case with the Polignac party. A sort 
of reaction in favor of the Princesse de Lamballe 
took place, and the Queen wrote to her affectionately. 
But the Princess had now directed her life in another 
line, and was entirely devoted to her father-in-law, 
the Due de Penthievre, coming to Versailles only 
when summoned by her official duties. But when 
the hour of need and danger came the Princesse de 
Lamballe left everything to go to the Queen, for 
whom she laid down her life without hesitation or 
even a moment of selfish fear. 

The Queen took the royal children to St. Cloud 
and Trianon, where she tried to propitiate her adver- 
saries by allowing free access to the gardens on Sun- 
days. There was dancing under a tent, and all 
decently dressed persons, even of the lower class, 
were admitted. Children were particularly welcome ; 
she spoke to them with the greatest kindness, and 
also to their nurses, encouraging their games, and 
seeming to share their enjoyment. The writer of 
these pages well remembers an old keeper of Trianon 



THE BEAUTY OF THE QUEEN 189 

who had known Marie- Antoinette and loved to speak 
of her. He had been a choir-boy in her chapel, and 
she often stopped to say a passing word to him and 
give him sweets. He said of her, using a familiar 
French locution: "EUe etait bonne — comme du bon 
pain." 1 

The haughtiness which was so generally attributed 
to Marie- Antoinette was only apparent, except when 
she wished to show displeasure. At other times the 
impression was due only to the manner in which she 
carried her head, and the majesty of her demeanor; 
for in her habitual intercourse she was only too un- 
pretending, and indifferent to the marks of respect 
which were due to her, and which she too easily 
overlooked. 

About this time Madame Vigee-Lebrun, the cele- 
brated artist, was appointed to paint several portraits 
of the Queen, which contemporaries declare to be the 
best likenesses taken of her. 

Madame Lebrun describes her as tall, with an ad- 
mirable figure rather fully developed, though without 
excess; and beautiful arms, hands, and feet. No wo- 
man in France walked so gracefully as the Queen ; she 
carried her head high, with a majesty which distin- 
guished her as the sovereign in the midst of all her 
court, and yet without diminishing the impression 
of sweet kindness in her whole demeanor. She adds 
that it is very difficult to give to those who have not 
seen the Queen an idea of so much grace and dignity 

1 ** She was good — like good bread." 



190 THE STORY OF MAREE-ANTOINETTE 

combined. One day she was expressing lier admira- 
tion of the majesty which was so remarkable in the 
Queen's whole demeanor, upon which Marie- Antoi- 
nette quickly answered, as if from some painful recol- 
lection : " If I were not a queen, people would say 
that I have an insolent air, would they not 1 " Madame 
Lebrun does not hesitate to allow that the features 
were not classically regular, and that they were even 
in some respects defective. But the whole was so at- 
tractive and so fascinating that the details escaped 
criticism. The brilliancy of her complexion she 
describes as unequaled; the skin was so delicately 
transparent that it did not take shade. 

Madame Lebrun was in a delicate state of health 
at this time, and on one occasion, when the Queen 
was to have given her a sitting, she was not well 
enough to go to Versailles. The next day she has- 
tened there with the intention to explain and apolo- 
gize, but was ungraciously received by one of the 
officials, who said stiffly : 

"Her Majesty expected you yesterday, madame; 
to-day she is going out for a drive, and cannot re- 
ceive you." 

The carriages were waiting in the courtyard of the 
palace, and Madame Lebrun, exceedingly frightened, 
entreated to be allowed to seek at least the Queen's 
pardon. Finally she was shown into the Queen's 
private apartments, where she found Marie-Antoi- 
nette preparing for her drive while hearing the little 
Princess repeat her lesson. 



" Wiiy, 1 expected you yesteraay ! " 

" Alas ! Madame," answered the artist, " I was so 
ill that it was irapossible for me to come. I now 
seek your Majesty's forgiveness, and await the 
Queen's orders." 

"You must not have the fatigue to no purpose," 
said the Queen quickly, with her characteristic kind- 
ness. " Send away the carriages ! We will have the 
sitting." 

Madame Lebrun, overpowered with nervousness 
and gratitude, began to prepare her easel and paint- 
box, but in her agitation she dropped the latter, and 
the brushes were scattered over the floor. 

" Oh, you must not stoop down ! " cried the 
Queen; and, kneeling herself, she gathered up what 
had fallen. 

Such was Marie- Antoinette, always kind, always 
considerate to others. And this was the woman, so 
maligned, so calumniated, whom popular opinion, 
worked upon by infamous libels, supposed to be 
capable of every crime ! 

The death of Vergennes, and the nomination of 
Lomenie de Brienne, Archbishop of Sens, as Prime 
Minister, increased the unpopularity of the Queen, 
who, through the influence of the Abbe de Vermond 
and what was called " the Austrian party," had been 
induced to persuade the King to make this choice. 
This was publicly known; consequently she was held 
responsible for all his errors; and as he constantly 



vifc! vr J, there was a general cry, " The C^ueen governs ! " 
Meanwhile a great grief was in store for her — the 
death of her youngest child, the little Princesse 
Sophie, at the age of eleven months; and, in addi- 
tion, the delicate health of the Dauphin caused her 
great anxiety. The Queen took refuge at Trianon 
to indulge in her grief more freely; but she called 
to her Madame Elisabeth, whom she had learned 
to know and love. She wrote to her sister-in-law : 

"We shall weep together over the death of my 
poor little angel. I need all your heart to comfort 
mine." ^ 

It would have been well for Marie- Antoinette if she 
had never had any intimate friend but the Princesse 
Elisabeth. Unhappily, the difference in age had 
long kept them asunder; but now the Queen was 
beginning to recognize the admirable character of 
the young girl, who developed into one of the most 
perfect beings known to frail humanity. She be- 
came the comfort and support of the whole royal 
family in their sufferings with absolute f orgetf ulness 
of self. Eeligion was the moving spring of Madame 
Elisabeth's life, but she had the rare gift of that tact 
and sweetness of disposition which never interfere 
with others. She joined in the pleasures of those 
around her with perfect simplicity, and her deep 
religious faith only brought comfort when needed, 

iFrom an unpublished autograph letter belonging to the Marquis 
de Bienoourt. 




' K%\\\ 



BED OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE. 



INTERCOTJESB WITH MADAME ELISABETH 193 

without criticism or blame toward those less fervent 
than herself. She passionately loved her brother' 
Louis XYI, and any sacrifice made for him seemed 
easy. The Queen had learned to appreciate the 
sterling qualities which underlay the King's unat- 
tractive exterior ; she felt deeply his kindness, shown 
on all occasions, and his deep love for her. But 
Madame Elisabeth contributed more than any one 
else, or any thing, to bring them together, to rouse 
dormant affection in the Queen for her husband. 
Her influence was always good; she was ever the 
gentle peacemaker ready to soothe any irritation 
or to remove any misunderstanding. 

About this time a strange prophecy was the sub- 
ject of general interest and wonder. Madame d'Ober- 
kirch, in her memoirs, alludes to several current 
prophecies, and particularly mentions this one, at- 
tributed to M. Cazotte, ^ which had attracted so much 
attention and yet seemed so impossible to be realized. 
La Harpe, the well-known writer, gives it in full. 
Incredible as such foresight seems, the tradition has 
been preserved till now in the family of the Due de 
G-ramont and also in that of Cazotte; in both it is 
fully believed to be authentic. 

The Duchesse de Gramont had said during a po- 
litical conversation in her house: "We women are 
very fortunate in having nothing to do with revolu- 
tions. It is understood that our sex exempts us 
from all such evils." 

1 In 1788. 



194 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

"Your sex, mesdames," then said Cazotte, "will not 
save you this time. You will be treated like men, 
without any difference. You, Madame la Duchesse, 
will be led to the scaffold, and many other ladies with 
you, in a cart, with your hands tied behind your back." 

" Oh, in such a case I shall at least have a mourn- 
ing-coach ! " 

" No, madame; greater ladies than yourself will go 
like you in a cart, with their hands tied like yours." 

" Greater ladies ! What ! The princesses of the 
royal blood?" 

" Greater ladies still." 

There was an awe-struck silence; every one felt 
that the jest, if it was a jest, was going too far. 
Madame de Gramont, wishing to dispel the cloud, 
exclaimed in her most careless tone of banter: "You 
will see that he will not even allow me a father con- 
fessor ! " 

"No, madame; you will have none — nor any one 
else. The last to whom the favor shall be granted 
will be—" 

Cazotte stopped and remained silent. 

"Well, who is the happy mortal who will have 
such a privilege I " 

" It will be the last retained by him, and he is tlie 
King of France ! " 

The seer might have added the " Woe to myself ! " 
of the prophet during the siege of Jerusalem; for 
Cazotte died on the scaffold during the fearful times 
of which he had such an extraordinary prevision. 



PAINTING BY MADAME LEBRUN 195 

Meanwhile events were ripening. Lomenie de 
Brienne liad been obliged to resign, and the people 
danced around bonfires in which he was burned in 
effigy. The Queen, most imprudently, but through 
a mistaken idea of the duty of remaining faithful to 
friends, showed him marked sympathy and multi- 
plied tokens of favor, with the result of such exas- 
peration on the part of the populace that the King 
forbade her to go into Paris for fear of public insult. 

Madame Lebrun had painted a group of the Queen 
and her children which was sent to the yearly exhi- 
bition of paintings. This interesting picture is still 
to be seen at Versailles ; it is in the affected style 
of the period, and may seem theatrical at the present 
time ; but it is a pretty picture and attracts great at- 
tention from visitors. The Queen is seated, with the 
little Due de Normandie on her knee; the young 
Princess, her daughter, is leaning over her and look- 
ing up mournfully into her face; while the little Dau- 
phin is raising a dark veil covering an empty cradle — 
an allusion to the death of the baby, Princesse 
Sophie. The picture is sad but very pleasing. The 
frame was not ready when Madame Lebrun sent it 
to the exhibition, and it was feared that it could not 
remain, for the portrait of the Queen was immedi- 
ately entitled " Madame Deficit," and was constantly 
insulted. But the frame was finally placed, and the 
charm of the picture won its way despite opposition. 

The death of the poor little Princesse Sophie, " so 
pretty just before she died," as Madame Elisabeth 



196 THE STORY OF MAEEE-ANTOINETTE 

wrote, was tlie beginning of the new era of sorrow 
which awaited Marie- Antoinette. Her elder son, the 
Dauphin, whose birth had been hailed with such de- 
light, was one of those grave, quiet children who seem 
doomed to an early death. He grew too fast, became 
deformed, and then crippled. The Queen could not 
believe that his condition was so serious, and the 
physicians mercifully left her the delusion that the 
air of Meudon would restore his strength, and that 
all would then come right. But the poor child was 
in a rapid decline, and nothing could be done. He 
was extremely sweet-tempered, patient, and amiable; 
but, strange to say, he could not endure the presence 
of his state governess, Madame de Polignac, and 
when so ill that he knew his fancies would be toler- 
ated, he would peremptorily order her to leave the 
room. A sort of instinct seemed to warn him of the 
injury that she had done to his mother; it was in 
vain that Madame de Polignac tried every means 
of propitiation : he could not bear her presence near 
him. 

But the state of public affairs was becoming so 
alarming that even the maternal anxiety of the 
Queen could not absorb her thoughts nor prevent 
the worst political forebodings. There were public 
meetings, revolutionary speeches, noisy demonstra- 
tions; disaffection reigned in all classes, more par- 
ticularly directed against the Queen. 

The necessity of summoning the States-General 
of the nation was now brought forward by the min- 



POLITICAL DIFFICULTIES 197 

isters as the only means of extrication from the 
overpowering difficulties, more particularly finan- 
cial, against which the government had to struggle. 

There was much discussion in the council as to 
whether it would be preferable to have this new 
assembly at Versailles or in a more distant town. 
The Queen instinctively felt the danger of being too 
near Paris, and urged the King to keep all parlia- 
mentary agitation at a distance, which would certainly 
have been wise. But the minister Necker took an 
optimistic view, refused to allow that there would be 
any danger, and urged the choice of Versailles. The 
King, as usual, yielded. 

The Queen and the Comte d'Artois took different 
views on some points, which produced some coldness 
between them. But the most serious adversary was 
the Due de Chartres, now the Due d'Orleans, who 
headed a party in constant opposition to the govern- 
ment, and more especially to the Queen. The King 
personally disliked him, and made him feel it with 
his characteristic roughness. This treatment, which 
he resented, he attributed mainly to the Queen. The 
Due d'Orleans, a man of weak character and limited 
capacity, was surrounded by adventurers who made 
use of him as a tool to further their own schemes, 
while his licentious conduct also threw him under 
the direct influence of disreputable women who hated 
the Queen, by whom they felt they were despised. 



13* 



CHAPTER XII 

Convocation of the States-General — Royal pomp shown for the 
last time — The Queen subjected to insulting cries — Death of 
the Dauphin — Superstition and wax candles — The Bastille 
taken — Murder of the governor, de Launay, and of the pro- 
vost Flesselles — Scenes of ** Sentiment " — Flight of the 
Polignac family — Departure of several princes of the royal 
blood — Delusion of Lafayette — Banquet of the Guards at 
Versailles. 



THE convocation of tlie States-General (May 5, 
1789), a magnificent ceremony, was the last occa- 
sion on which the King and Queen of France appeared 
in their royal pomp and splendor. The King, wear- 
ing his royal insignia, had with him his brothers and 
all the princes of the royal family, except the Due 
d'Orleans, who, to court popularity, chose to take 
his place among the deputies instead of holding his 
rank among the princes. The Queen, in full court 
dress, was surrounded by the princesses, her aunts 
and sisters-in-law; but as she passed, with aU her 
grace and majesty, such a burst of threatening cries 
— "Vive le Due d'Orleans!" — came from the as- 
sembled crowd, that she seemed about to faint, and 
the princesses supported her for a few moments. 
By a violent effort she regained apparent compo- 
sure, and was able to continue her part in the cere- 



KOYAX, POMP FOR THE LAST TIME 199 

mony, but she retained a most painful impression of 
the incident. 

The King was received with demonstrations of 
loyalty, — at that time he still retained a considerable 
amount of popularity, — but while he was allowed to 
have good intentions, he was supposed to be under 
bad influence — that of the Queen and of the Comte 
d'Artois, who was intensely hated and publicly in- 
sulted by the populace. They cried, " Vive le roi ! " 
and then, addressing the Comte d'Artois: "Yes, 
vive le roi! in spite of you, Monseigneur, and 
your opinions ! " 

The provincial deputies all asked to visit Trianon, 
with the expectation of seeing a most extraordinary 
display of magnificence which was supposed to have 
ruined the nation by its cost. 

When they were shown the small house, with its 
simple though artistic decoration, they would not be- 
lieve that this was the fairy palace of which they 
had heard so much. They eagerly asked for the 
room " which was all in precious stones," and would 
not believe that there was nothing of the kind. It 
was supposed that this absurd report had spread into 
the distant provinces in consequence of a piece of 
scenery, representing some hall in a fairy-tale, which 
had been made for a theatrical performance under 
Louis XV. This pasteboard decoration had columns 
wreathed with bits of colored glass representing pre- 
cious stones, but of course utterly worthless, and 
certainly not of a kind to ruin any one. The depu- 



200 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

ties, however, would not be convinced, and left tlie 
premises declaring that the really splendid apart- 
ments of the palace had been concealed from them ! 

The poor little Dauphin died exactly a month 
after the opening of the States-General. If his poor 
mother could have foreseen the fate which awaited 
his younger brother, she would have looked upon his 
death as a peculiar privilege instead of a cause for 
bitter grief, but, anxious as the poor Queen must 
have been, she could not have imagined what was 
in store for those she loved. And yet she had sad 
though vague forebodings. 

Madame Campan mentions that one evening, as 
the Queen was conversing with her ladies on the 
threatening aspect of events, one of the four wax 
candles placed on her dressing-table went out. Ma- 
dame Campan lighted the candle again ; but, as she 
did so, a second candle became extinguished, and 
then a third. The Queen caught the hand of Ma- 
dame Campan, and squeezing it in a frightened 
manner, exclaimed: "Misfortune causes superstitious 
feelings ; if the fourth candle goes out, nothing will 
prevent me from looking upon this as a bad omen." 

The fourth candle went out ! 

Marie-Antoinette lived in a state of nervous ex- 
citement, and was beginning to lose the power of 
sleep. Every day brought some fresh cause for 
alarm. With the month of July came popular in- 
surrections in Paris, several days following ; on the 
fourteenth, the attack on the Bastille, and the hor- 



THE BASTILLE TAKEN 201 

rible murder of the governor, de Launay, and of 
Flesselles. 

Under Louis XVI the Bastille was no longer ex- 
clusively a state prison j and it would be about as 
reasonable to pull down, in the present day, the 
Tower of London for the iniquities committed there 
in the olden time, as it was then to destroy the Bas- 
tille. It was a prison, like any other ; and at the 
time when the populace burst in there were seven 
prisoners, all of whom were confined for criminal 
acts. 

The scenes described by Dickens in his " Tale of 
Two Cities" are simply untrue and absurd; the 
whole book is a totally false picture, utterly un- 
worthy of his genius, and showing absolute igno- 
rance of the period that he professes to describe. 
There was virtually no defense of the Bastille, nor 
in reality any means of defense; and the murder 
of the governor was an act of ferocity, without a 
shadow of excuse. 

The Queen wept bitterly when she was informed 
of this horrible event ; but although she foresaw the 
consequences, it was in vain that she urged the King 
to take energetic measures : to retire into a fortified 
town, with faithful troops, and there to act as the 
head of the nation to restore public order. The 
King feared the responsibility of making matters 
worse, and always strove to conciliate. The day 
after the taking of the Bastille, when the insurgents, 
frightened at their own act, would easily have been 



202 THE STORY OP MARIE- ANTOINETTE 

brought to submission by a display of armed force, 
lie went to the Assembly with his two brothers, on 
foot, without any escort or guards, and made pa- 
thetic speeches, offering to send away his troops from 
Versailles. There were sentimental scenes, charac- 
teristic of the sentimental time ; the deputies followed 
the King to the palace, and asked to see the Queen 
and the new Dauphin — the little Due de Normandie, 
who had succeeded to his brother's honors as heir 
apparent to the crown — a beautiful and interest- 
ing child. 

The question of the King's departure with the 
troops was discussed with his counselors ; the Queen 
was warmly in favor of this decision, and had hopes 
that it would be adopted, for she began to burn pa- 
pers as a preparation, and taking her jewels out of 
their cases, put them into a box, which she intended 
to take with her in her carriage. But to the Queen's 
great distress, it was finally settled that the King 
should go to the Hotel de Ville in Paris, and then 
return to Versailles. 

There had been violent demonstrations against the 
Polignac family, and the Duchess had been burned 
in effigy. The Queen, much alarmed, exhorted them 
to leave the country immediately. The Prince de 
Conde, the Due de Bourbon, the Due d'Enghien, 
the Comte d'Artois and his children, left Versailles 
with the troops. 

The Queen sent for the Due and Duchesse de Poli- 
gnac at eight o'clock in the evening, and urged them 



DEPAETUEE OF SEVEEAL PRINCES 203 

to lose no time in their preparations ; they were un- 
willing to leave her, but the King ordered them to 
go at once, saying that he had given the same orders 
to his brother the Comte d'Artois, who had wished 
to accompany him to Paris, which the King would 
not allow. The Queen and her friend parted with 
great grief, their affection having been revived by the 
serious nature of present events; happily, neither 
could suppose that they would never meet again. 
The necessary preparations were made in three hours' 
time ; at midnight they left Versailles, and managed 
to reach Switzerland safely. 

On the 17th of July the King bravely went to 
Paris with no defenders but the new National Gruard, 
of which Lafayette had accepted the command. His 
life was evidently in danger; but although Louis XVI 
was deficient in moral courage, he possessed great 
personal valor, and behaved throughout the day with 
the utmost coolness and composure. The crowd 
was silent, but evidently hostile, till, after reaching 
the Hotel de Ville, the King appeared on the balcony, 
and accepting from the mayor, Bailly, the new tri- 
color cockade, fastened it to his hat. There was 
then a burst of enthusiasm, with which the good and 
well-meaning King was delighted. 

The Queen had remained at Versailles in an agony 
of expectation ; the King arrived safely at ten o'clock 
in the evening, and in the midst of the joyful em- 
braces of those most dear to him, he repeated several 
times : " Happily there was no bloodshed, and I am 



204 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

resolved tliat never shall a drop of Frencli blood flow 
through my orders." 

Alas ! as even the gentle Madame Elisabeth fore- 
saw, the determination to spare miscreants only 
served to sacrifice the lives of his most devoted 
adherents. 

Four days later the atrocious murder of Foulon, 
an old man of seventy-six years whom Lafayette 
vainly tried to save, and of his son-in-law Berthier, 
showed the real nature of the monsters whom the 
poor King vainly tried to conciliate. Lafayette had 
sent in his resignation after the horrible atrocity 
which he had vainly tried to prevent; but he was 
persuaded to withdraw it, which, for the sake of his 
fame, is much to be regretted. 

The character of Lafayette was high and noble; 
but, unfortunately, he courted popularity and lived 
in enthusiastic delusions, without understanding the 
difference of nature between the Americans, whom 
he admired so much, and his own countrymen, or 
the difference of situation between the two countries. 
This was the cause of fatal mistakes and irreparable 
evils. 

The Queen, hearing that alarming rumors were 
current with regard to the Abbe de Vermond, urged 
him also to leave the country. He was able to reach 
Vienna safely, and remained there till his death. 

Several insurrections took place in September, 
which Lafayette put down successfully. Unfortu- 
nately, the arrival at Versailles of a new regiment 



BANQUET OF THE GUARDS AT VERSAILLES 205 

was the occasion of a banquet of welcome, according 
to custom, given by the King's G-uards, on October 1, 
in the theater of the palace. The King and Queen 
had not intended to be present at this banquet ; but 
as considerable loyalty and enthusiasm were shown, 
they were persuaded to appear with the Dauphin. 
There was violent excitement, with enthusiastic de- 
monstrations of loyalty, which were grossly exagger- 
ated and misrepresented in Paris, where the populace 
began to propose going to Versailles and taking 
possession of the King and royal family. 



CHAPTEE XIII 

Insurrection in Paris — The populace force Lafayette to lead 
them to Versailles — Advice of the Minister of the Interior, 
Comte de Saint-Priest — Mistaken refusal of the Queen to 
leave the King — His indecision — Mistaken views of Necker 
and Lafayette — Attack on the Queen's apartments — Devoted 
bravery of the Guards — The Queen forced to seek refuge in 
the King's apartments — Her intrepidity — The Royal Family 
taken forcibly to Paris — Arrival at the Tuileries — The httle 
Dauphin — The Princesse de Lamballe — Daily life of Marie- 
Antoinette. 



FOR several days after the fatal banquet of the 
Gruards there had been great agitation in Paris, 
where every kind of false report as to the King's 
plans and intentions was current. On the morning 
of October 5, 1792, women began to rush about the 
streets crying that the bakers had no bread. They 
went in a body to the Hotel de Ville, where Maillard, 
one of the most prominent among the insurgents 
who had attacked the Bastille, took command of 
this army of viragos, while the great alarm-bells 
were ringing a full peal. The whole crowd was 
made up of the very lowest elements in the Parisian 
populace, — the most degraded women, vagabonds, 
malefactors, — all more or less intoxicated, roaring 
revolutionary songs, with cries of vengeance, while 



INSURRECTION IN PARIS 207 

brandisMng old guns, swords, and pikes. The 
women expressed especial hatred toward Marie- An- 
toinette. 

"Austrian!" they cried, "you have danced for 
your own pleasure ; now you must dance for ours ! " 
The horrible threats uttered in addition to this are 
unfit to be transcribed. 

Another crowd of rioters went to Lafayette, who 
was on horseback commanding the National Guards 
near the Hotel de Ville, and called upon him to lead 
them. The National Guards fraternized with the 
rioters. All cried : " To Versailles ! To Versailles ! " 
Lafayette tried in vain to pacify, or at least to gain 
time ; at last, however, under the impression that he 
might direct the mob, and that his presence would 
prevent violence, he consented to go at their head 
to Versailles, whither they had been preceded by the 
women. 

For some days rumors of an intended attack of 
the populace had reached Versailles ; but neither the 
King nor the Queen believed in danger, and no pre- 
cautionary measures had been taken. Confidence 
was so complete that the King had gone to Meudon 
for shooting, and the Queen to Trianon attended 
only by a servant. 

The weather was dark and cloudy, and the Queen's 
thoughts were certainly as sad as were the skies 
above her. She walked in the grounds, with the 
autumn leaves falling around her, and summoning 
her head gardener, began to settle with him what 



208 THE STORY OF MAEEE-ANTOINETTE 

was to be done there. She then went to her dairy, 
and seeing that drizzling rain was beginning, she 
took refuge in her grotto, where she sat in deep, 
grave meditation. Suddenly she saw a page hurry- 
ing toward her with a letter. The Comte de Saint- 
Priest, Minister of the Interior, had written a few 
hurried lines begging the Queen to come back 
to the palace immediately, as an invasion by the 
Parisian populace was feared. Marie- Antoinette 
hastened to leave Trianon, little dreaming that she 
would never see again her loved retreat, where the 
happiest days of her life had been spent. 

She walked through the park of Versailles, as 
usual, followed by her attendant footman, and has- 
tened to reach the palace. 

The King had also received at Meudon a hasty 
summons from M. de Saint-Priest. A strange gen- 
tleman coming from Paris then addressed him as 
he was mounting his horse, assuring him that there 
was no danger — only women coming to ask for 
bread — he begged his Majesty to " have no fear." 

" Fear, sir ! " exclaimed the King angrily; " I never 
knew fear in my life!" And spurring his horse 
down one of the steepest paths in Meudon, he rode 
toward Versailles at full gallop. There he found the 
Queen and Madame Elisabeth, who, having seen the 
crowd in the distance from her house at Montreuil, 
had hastily returned to the palace of Versailles, and 
now urged her brother to take energetic measures 
of repression. 



i > 
> z 

•. o 




MISTAKEN VIEWS OF NECKER 209 

A council was called, and M. de Saint-Priest, with 
tlie hearty concurrence of Marshal de Beauvau and 
several of the ministers, urged the King to send 
troops immediately to defend the bridges over the 
Seine; at the same time the Queen and the royal 
children would go to Eambouillet, near Versailles, 
while the King, with a thousand cavalrymen, would 
meet the rioters, order them to retreat, and if they 
did not obey, disperse them by cavalry charges, 
which he thought would be sufficient to make them 
take flight; if not, the King with his troops could 
retreat on Versailles, and thence reach Eambouillet, 
where the Flanders regiment was stationed. 

Unhappily, the minister Necker declared that this 
plan would cause an outbreak of civil war; that 
there was nothing to fear in allowing matters to go 
on without violent repression ; and that it would suf- 
fice to parley with the rioters. 

The King's dislike of any measures which might 
cause bloodshed was only too much encouraged by 
the optimistic view taken by Necker ; and, unfortu- 
nately, before coming to a decision, he went to con- 
sult the Queen, who absolutely refused to leave him. 
The whole proposal thus fell to the ground. The 
feeling which prompted the Queen's resolution was 
high and noble; but in all probability the King 
would have been induced to show more energy if he 
had not been hampered by anxiety for the fate of 
his wife and children. 

The rain fell in torrents, and every one hoped that 



210 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

this might disperse the rioters. Meanwhile, the wo- 
men who formed the majority of the first detach- 
ment reached the palace. The Prince de Luxem- 
bourg, captain of the Guards, asked for the King's 
orders ; but he scoffed at the mere proposal of show- 
ing violence to women, and the Guards were for- 
bidden to use their arms. The King received a 
deputation of the women, gave them all the money 
at his disposal, and treated them with so much kind- 
ness that they were conquered; but not so the 
others, who became all the more violent. 

Night seemed to bring more quiet ; but the whole 
town seemed paralyzed with terror. The night was 
dark-, and ragged men, armed with pikes and clubs, 
knocked at the doors demanding food. The women 
had sought shelter in the Assembly of the States- 
General, and there they ate and drank in the midst 
of a number of representatives who had remained. 

Meanwhile, another council was called at the pal- 
ace, and hardly had the seats been taken when a 
letter from Lafayette, brought by an aide-de-camp, 
was given to M. de Saint-Priest, announcing his ar- 
rival with the National Guards and a number of 
Parisians who came to expostulate with the King 
on their grievances. He assured his Majesty that 
there would be no disturbance, and that he would 
answer for order. Saint-Priest read "between the 
lines" that Lafayette had been obliged to yield to 
force, and in no wise shared his confidence. Saint- 
Priest then made a fresh appeal to the King, entreat- 



MISTAKEN VIEWS OF LAFAYETTE 211 

ing him not to lose a moment in leaving Versailles 
with his troops, escorting the Queen and the royal 
children to Rambouillet. There was now no possi- 
bility of resistance; flight was imperatively neces- 
sary ; the King could not wait for the arrival of the 
mob. " Sire," repeated Saint-Priest, "if you are taken 
to Paris to-morrow, your crown will be lost." 

The Queen consented to go, as the King would ac- 
company her ; but Necker again vehemently opposed 
the King's departure. The carriages were ordered, 
however, and Saint-Priest now hoped that all would 
be saved ; but the King still hesitated, and thus the 
opportunity was missed. 

At ten o'clock Lafayette appeared with a crowd of 
rioters and twenty thousand National Guards. He 
went first to the Assembly, assured the deputies of 
his conviction that order would be maintained, and 
then went to the palace. As he came into the aparj;- 
ments where the court was assembled, a voice cried : 
" Here comes Cromwell ! " 

Lafayette quickly answered: "Sir, Cromwell would 
not have come alone ! " Then going up to the King, 
he said with deep emotion : " Sire, I bring you my 
head in the hope of saving your Majesty's." 

He added expressions of absolute confidence in the 
National Guards whom he had brought with him; 
and as they were a large force, he declared that he 
would answer for the preservation of order. He had 
patrolled the town, and all was quiet everywhere. 

The King was only too much disposed to tempo-. 



212 THE STOKY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

rize; he trusted the positive assurances of Lafayette, 
who was undoubtedly sincere, but deluded, his delu- 
sion being carried to such an extent that he took no 
precautionary measures, and left the palace in its usu- 
ally unguarded condition. For this Lafayette can- 
not be excused, having already witnessed such savage 
massacres in Paris that he well knew what the mob 
might be tempted to do when thus let loose. To be 
sure, he had been for seventeen hours on horseback, 
and naturally was overcome with fatigue. Eest was 
necessary; but instead of remaining at the palace, 
where his presence might be required at any moment, 
he followed his natural preference for his own home 
in the town. His conduct is severely judged by 
French writers even of moderate views ; he certainly 
showed little care and foresight at a time when both 
were imperatively necessary. 

The King and Queen, sharing his security, retired 
to rest at two o'clock in the morning, and at first all 
was quiet. The Queen had desired her ladies to go 
to bed ; happily, their loyal anxiety prevented them 
from doing so, and calling their own personal at- 
tendants, the four women sat before the door of the 
Queen's bedchamber without undressing. At half- 
past five in the morning they heard loud cries and 
guns fired; one of the ladies flew into the Queen's 
bedchamber to awaken her, while another lady ran 
to the place where she heard the noise. On opening 
the door, she saw one of the Queen's guards,^ covered 

1 Miomandre de Ste-Marie, whose predecessor had been killed. 



ATTACK ON THE QUEEN'S APARTMENTS 213 

with blood, assailed by a crowd of rioters, and bravely 
defending the entrance to the Queen's apartments. 
He turned his head, crying : " Madame, save the 
Queen! Her life is in danger!" The lady shut 
and bolted the door, leaving the brave guard to his 
fate, and also fastened the door of the next room; 
then, running to the Queen, she warned her to fly at 
once without stopping to dress. The Queen sprang 
to her feet ; her attendants threw a mantle and pet- 
ticoat around her, without even taking time to fasten 
them, and by a door concealed behind the hangings, 
and which is still shown to visitors, the Queen and 
her ladies passed into the "(Eil de Boeuf " room lead- 
ing to the King's apartments. A door of communi- 
cation which was never locked outside was found 
fastened; happily, a servant opened it, and the 
Queen rushed into the King's bedchamber. He was 
not there, having anxiously gone to her apartments 
by another passage. He found only some of the 
guards who had taken refuge there ; the rioters had 
not discovered the way among the various rooms 
and halls, and happily did not reach the Queen's 
bedchamber. The King hastily returned to his 
own, where he found the Queen with the royal chil- 
dren, who had been brought by the state governess, 
Madame de Tourzel (appointed after the flight of Ma- 
dame de Polignac). Soon "Monsieur" and "Madame" 
(Comte and Comtesse de Provence) came, also Ma- 
dame Elisabeth and the "Mesdames de France," aunts 
of the King; Madame Adelaide showing character- 



214 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

istic resolution, and saying firmly : " We will teach, 
them how to die ! " 

In the midst of all this confusion and terror, 
Lafayette had hurried to the palace without even 
stopping to have a horse saddled, and arrived, fortu- 
nately, in time to save the lives of a number of 
guards,^ who had been dragged into the Place 
d'Armes before the palace, to be massacred there. 
Two had been cruelly murdered at the first assault ; 
their heads had been cut off and placed on pikes. 

Saint-Priest, who witnessed the affray and the 
efforts of Lafayette, then tried to reach the King's 
apartments, where Lafayette himself was repulsed 
by the guards, who would not open the doors of the 
" CEil de Boeuf " room. After some parleying they, 
however, consented to admit him; and he placed 
there some grenadiers to assist in the defense, so 
that the populace did not penetrate. The Queen, 
hastily dressed in a morning deshabille, stood at one 
of the windows of the King's bedchamber, watching 
the crowd, to whom from time to time Lafayette 
addressed speeches from the balcony, which were 
answered by loud cries : " To Paris I To Paris ! " A 
few shots were fired. 

The Queen said calmly : " I know that these peo- 
ple have come to demand my head ; but my mother 
taught me not to fear death." 

1 The Gardes du Corps, or body-guard, were all gentlemen. Vari- 
court, one of the murdered guards, had been killed while defending 
the door leading to the Queen's apartments ; Miomandre de Ste.-Marie 
then took his place, and was left for dead, but was saved. 



THE QUEEN'S INTREPIDITY 215 

Lafayette reappeared. "Madame, the people call 
for you to come out upon the balcony." 

For a moment she shrank back. The appearance 
of the mob was terrific, and guns were pointed to- 
ward her. 

" Madame, it is necessary to restore peace — " 

" Then I will go anywhere," said the Queen, " even 
to death itself {jusqu % la mort).^ 

She took her two children by the hand, and came 
out on the balcony at the center of the palace, 
through the room in which Louis XIV died. There 
was a loud cry : " No children ! " 

Did they intend to kill her ? 

She evidently thought so, for pushing the two 
children into the room behind her, she came for- 
ward alone, calm and resolute, looking up to heaven. 

There was a momentary reaction, the guns were 
lowered, and a cry of " Vive la reine ! " was heard. 
Lafayette came to her side on the balcony, and 
kissed her hand. There were louder cries. But 
those of " A Paris ! a Paris ! " became more and 
more vehement. The King came out repeatedly 
on the balcony with Lafayette, who addressed the 
crowd, but without much effect. Saint-Priest, who 
relates the whole scene, describes the King as being 
in a state of bewilderment, without seeming to know 
what to say or do. Saint-Priest went up to him and 
urged his departure for Paris, resistance being now 
impossible, as coming too late. The Queen then 
said : " Oh, Monsieur de Saint-Priest ! why did we not 



216 THE STORY OF MAKIE-ANTOINETTE 

go away yesterday?" Saint-Priest rather bitterly 
retorted: "It is no fault of mine." "I know it," 
said the Queen sadly ; and her manner proved that 
she had not shared the responsibility of the King's 
change of plans. 

At first he made no answer to the exhortations of 
Saint-Priest, but finally he consented to go to Paris ; 
on which there were a few cries of " Vive le roi ! " and 
the populace retired from the courts of the palace. 

At one o'clock the royal family set off at a foot- 
pace, their carriage surrounded by insurgents and 
by the lowest of women, who uttered loud cries of 
insult and triumph. It has been said by several 
writers that the heads of the murdered guards were 
carried before the royal carriage. This does not 
seem to be true ; the horrible trophies were taken to 
Paris, and preceded the court — but two hours be- 
fore the King's departure, consequently not in the 
vicinity of his carriage. 

The royal children, with their governess, Madame 
de Tourzel, accompanied the King and Queen ; also 
Madame Elisabeth. The Mesdames, aunts of the 
King, had gone to their country house of Bellevue, 
near Versailles. The drive to Paris, which usually 
required from an hour and a haK to two hours, 
lasted during six hours of torture and insult. Be- 
fore going to the Tuileries, the King was taken like 
a captive to the Hotel de Ville, where the mayor, 
Bailly,^ made speeches of welcome. The King re- 

1 He perished on the scaffold during the Revolution. 



AREIVAL AT THE TUILERIES 217 

plied that lie came " with pleasure and confidence " 
to his good town of Paris ! 

At last the exhausted travelers were allowed to 
reach the Tuileries, where of course nothing was 
prepared for their reception, the palace having been 
uninhabited by the court since the childhood of 
Louis Xy. The Queen's ladies sat upon chairs dur- 
ing the first night; the royal children slept on camp- 
beds. The day had been terrible for them, yet they 
seem to have endured it with wonderful courage and 
calmness. The poor little Dauphin was not quite five 
years old ! 

When the morning came, hearing noise around the 
palace, the poor child ran to his mother. "Oh! 
mama," he cried, " is to-day still yesterday 1 " As 
he looked around, and saw everything so different 
from what he had left at Versailles, he said wonder- 
ingly : " Everything is very ugly here ! " " My 
child," said the Queen, " Louis XIV lived here, 
and we must not be more difficult to please than 
he was." 

But her heart was full, and when the Diplomatic 
Corps came to offer good wishes and congratulations 
she apologized for receiving them in so imperfect a 
manner, adding, "You know that I did not expect 
to come here ! " in a voice broken by the tears which 
she strove to repress. 

She wrote to her brother, Joseph 11 : " You have 
perhaps heard of our misfortunes before now. I 
still live, but I owe this only to Providence and to 






218 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

one of my guards, who was hacked to pieces in trying 
to save me." 

To Madame de Lamballe she wrote : " I still seem 
to hear the howling roar of the crowd, and the cries 
of my guards. These horrible scenes will occur 
again; but death has been too near for me to fear it. 
I thought I should be torn to pieces." 

The first impulse of Madame de Lamballe was 
to share with her Queen and friend the dangers 
described ; and without hesitation or a shade of 
personal fear she joined her at the Tuileries im- 
mediately, bringing all her heart to comfort and 
sympathize. 

During the whole of the terrible first day — so like 
"yesterday," as the poor little Dauphin said — the 
Queen was repeatedly obliged to go to the window 
and speak to the degraded women who had brought 
her from Versailles. In doing so she showed so much 
gentleness and sweetness that even these were con- 
quered, and asked her for the ribbons she wore as a 
memento, saying : " She is really good and kind." 

Furniture and necessaries were brought from Ver- 
sailles, and life was resumed much as it had been 
regulated there. The Queen, however, lived more 
alone in her private apartments, and was much en- 
grossed by the education of her children. She was 
present at all the lessons they received. As we have 
seen, books were never a favorite resource for her- 
self, and at that time her mind was too much under 
the influence of the agitation of passing events to be 



HER DAILY LIFE 219 

able to give reading any attention; she preferred 
needlework, of which she did a surprising quantity, 
such as tapestry-work, knitting, etc. With the as- 
sistance of Madame Elisabeth, she worked a whole 
carpet, which was found at the Tuileries by Jose- 
phine, and much admired by her. With character- 
istic kindness, she had it carefully put away, to be 
forwarded to the Queen's daughter, the Duchesse 
d'Angouleme. 

At the time when the Tuileries palace was inhab- 
ited by Louis XVI and Marie- Antoinette there was 
no separation whatever from the garden, and those 
who came upon the terrace could look in at the 
windows. Louis-Philippe caused a sort of excava- 
tion to be made, like the areas of English houses, 
with an iron railing; and Napoleon III took a por- 
tion of the garden for the use of the Prince Im- 
perial ; but previously the inhabitants of the palace 
had no privacy whatever. This was a sore trial to 
Marie- Antoinette, who could not even breathe the 
air at her windows without being in contact with 
intruders alternately disposed to show inconvenient 
enthusiasm and insulting hostility. 

The Queen's apartments were on the ground floor, 
near those of the King ^ ; the royal children were 
above, with the state governess, Madame de Tourzel ; 
one of the small, dark staircases so common at the 
Tuileries allowed private communication between 
the floors. The Queen received the courtiers twice a 

1 Afterward used by Napoleon III and tlie Prince Imperial. 



220 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

week, before mass, and on those days she dined in 
public with the King ; but her life was far more re- 
tired than at Versailles. The Princesse de Lamballe 
gave evening receptions, which were brilliantly at- 
tended. The Queen was at first occasionally present ; 
but she soon found that in the excited state of popu- 
lar feeling it was better to remain away. How 
changed was her life from what it had been ! But 
Marie-Antoinette herseK was no longer the same 
being. 



CHAPTEE XIV 

Attempt of the royalists to carry off the King by force — The 
King will not consent — The two guards, Miomandre de Ste.- 
Marie and his companion, received and thanked by the Queen 
— Unfortunate shyness of the King — St. Cloud — Fears of 
poison for the Queen — Interview with Mirabeau — Plans 
for flight — Procrastination — Eetum of Fersen — What the 
Queen thought absolutely necessary for precipitate flight — 
Rumors in the public world. 



THE King was more than ever imbued with the 
best intentions, and the most honest desire of re- 
storing peace by every personal sacrifice ; bnt his sit- 
uation was one devoid of all precedent which could 
in any way guide his actions, and he was surrounded 
not only by enemies, but by too zealous friends, all 
equally dangerous as regards results. The aristoc- 
racy remaining in Paris came to offer homage and 
marks of faithful attachment; but these were put 
forward with a degree of ostentation which was 
considered by the opposite party as amounting to 
wilful provocation. The King tried to pacify, but 
his most devoted adherents gave out that he was act- 
ing under compulsion, and his adversaries doubted 
his sincerity. 

Some of his devoted subjects formed a plan of 
seizing his person by force, taking him away from 



222 THE STORY OF MAREE-ANTOINETTE 

the Tuileries, and removing him to a town where he 
would be free from the pressure of Paris. In the 
beginning of March, 1790, everything was ready for 
the execution of this bold undertaking ; the National 
Guards had been bribed, and all had been prepared 
to secure his safety after leaving the palace. But 
the conspirators considered that the King's expressed 
consent was necessary, and the Comte d'Hinnisdal 
was deputed to obtain it before midnight, the ap- 
pointed hour. 

He explained the whole plan to Monsieur Campan, 
father-in-law of the Queen's lady of the bedchamber, 
who undertook to ask for the King's orders. 

The royal family were assembled in the Queen's 
apartments ; the King was playing at whist with the 
Queen, "Monsieur " (Comte de Provence) and his wife, 
"Madame." The Princess Elisabeth was kneeling 
on a stool near the card-table. Monsieur Campan 
informed the Queen of the Comte d'Hinnisdal's mis- 
sion. No one answered a word. At last the Queen, 
addressing the King, said : " Monsieur, did you hear 
what Campan has just told us ! " 

" Yes, I heard," said the King, continuing the game. 
" Monsieur " then asked Monsieur Campan to repeat 
what he had said, and pressed the King to give some 
answer, with no effect. At last the Queen said: 
" You must, absolutely, say something to Campan." 
The King then spoke : " Tell Monsieur d'Hinnisdal 
that I cannot give my consent to be taken away by 
force." 



ATTEMPTS TO CARRY OFF THE KING BY FORCE 223 

The Queen eagerly addressed Monsieur Campan : 
" You hear — you understand — repeat exactly what 
the King has said: the King cannot give Ms consent 
to be taken away by force." 

The Comte d'Hinnisdal showed anger when this 
answer was repeated to him. "I understand; he 
intends to throw all the blame on those who will 
devote themselves to him." 

He left the palace, and Madame Campan was con- 
vinced by his manner that the whole undertaking 
would be given up. The Queen, however, hoped 
that the King's answer would be interpreted as a 
tacit consent. She desired Madame Campan to sit 
up, and with her made preparations for flight. But 
the night passed and all remained quiet. The Queen, 
evidently disappointed, then said to Madame Cam- 
pan: "We must, however, get away; no one can 
tell what the rebels may do ; danger increases daily." 

Letters and advice of all kinds poured in upon the 
poor Queen. Some friends exhorted her to leave 
the country, saying that it would be better for the 
King to seem to act without her influence ; but the 
Queen declared that she would never leave the King 
or her son ; that the throne itself was in peril ; and 
that the only advantage would be the possible sav- 
ing of her own life, which she was willing to sacrifice. 

The two guards who had been so terribly wounded 
in defending the door of the Queen's apartments at 
Versailles — Miomandre de Ste.-Marie ^ and his com- 

" 1 Miomandre de Ste-Marie received seventeen wounds. 



224 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

panion — had survived, contrary to all expectation, 
and were now in a measure cured. With the other 
wounded guards, they had been carefully tended 
at the royal infirmary of Versailles. But the Queen 
was anxious that they should leave Paris, fearing 
lest they should be recognized and massacred by 
the mob. She wished, however, to see and thank 
them personally, and desired Madame Campan to 
summon them to her own apartment the next day, 
at eight o'clock in the evening, and to offer them 
what money they might require; adding that gold 
could not pay what they had done for her, and that 
she hoped the day would come when she could prove 
to them her gratitude; but that she offered them 
what they might need, as a sister would help a 
brother under similar circumstances. 

They came at the appointed hour, and while Ma- 
dame Campan was giving them the Queen's message, 
she came in herself, followed by the King and Ma- 
dame Elisabeth. The Queen sat down in an easy- 
chair, Madame Elisabeth took a seat near her, and 
the King remained standing, with his back to the 
fire. The two guards stood before him. The Queen 
said that the King was anxious to see the brave 
men who had given such proofs of loyalty and at- 
tachment. Miomandre de Ste.-Marie answered in the 
most appropriate and affecting manner. Madame 
Elisabeth then spoke of the King's feelings on the 
subject, and the Queen urged them to leave Paris 
without delay ; but throughout the whole interview 




MADAME ELISABETH. 

FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT 4 CO., N. Y, OF A PAINTfNG BY MME. VIGEE LEBRUN 
IN THE POSSESSION OF MME. LA MARQUISE DU BLAISDEL. 



ST. CLOUD 225 

the King did not utter a word ! He was evidently 
deeply moved, and Ms eyes were full of tears ; but 
lie remained silent. The Queen rose, and the King 
walked out of the room, followed by Madame Elisa- 
beth. The Queen lingered, and standing by a deep 
window, she signed to Madame Campan, saying in a 
low voice : 

"I am sorry to have brought the King here. I am 
sure that Elisabeth feels as I do. If the King had 
expressed to those brave fellows only one fourth 
part of what was in his thoughts concerning them, 
they would have been delighted ; but he cannot con- 
quer his shyness." 

About this time the Emperor Joseph II died ; but 
the Queen had been so much displeased at the views 
which he had adopted both in religious and poHtical 
matters, that her sorrow for his death was not what 
it would have been some years before. 

When the spring came the closeness and heat of 
the Tuileries, with the deficiency of exercise, from 
which the King's health suffered, caused a great de- 
sire on the part of Marie- Antoinette for the shady 
bowers of St. Cloud, where comparative freedom 
could be enjoyed. Permission for the removal of 
the royal family for the summer was granted with- 
out difficulty, and the watch kept over them was 
much relaxed. In fact, escape would have been 
easy during the sojourn at St. Cloud, and the ques- 
tion was discussed with some of their most devoted 
adherents, who urged them not to lose the oppor- 



226 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

tunity. But, as usual, procrastination came across 
all plans of action: the King's aunts ("Mesdames") 
wished to leave France, and it was feared that the 
flight of the royal party from St. Cloud might create 
difficulties for them. But "Mesdames" did not go 
before the beginning of the following year (1791); 
the King had then left St. Cloud to winter in Paris, 
and was not allowed afterward to return to the sum- 
mer palace. The opportunity was irretrievably lost ! 

Meanwhile a plot to poison the Queen was discov- 
ered, and caused great anxiety around her. Anti- 
dotes were kept in readiness by the advice of her 
head physician, who was particularly anxious with 
regard to the habit she had adopted of keeping pow- 
dered sugar in her bedroom. In the heat of a French 
summer there is often great thirst, and the manifold 
complications of etiquette before a glass of water 
could be obtained had so irritated Marie- Antoinette 
that she had simplified matters by having a decanter 
of water, a glass, and a bowl of powdered sugar on 
her chest of drawers, and helping herself when she 
wished for refreshment. By order of the physician, 
Madame Campan kept a quantity of powdered sugar 
in her own apartment, and several times a day ex- 
changed it for that provided for the Queen. This was 
done secretly ; but on one occasion the Queen came 
in unexpectedly. 

" I suppose this has been settled between you and 
Monsieur Vicq-d'Azyr," ^ she said, with a sad smile. 

1 The royal physician. 



INTEEVIEW WITH MIRABEAU 227 

" Do not be afraid of poison ; they will not try it. 
They have a more dangerous weapon in their 
hands — calumny. They will kill me with that ! " 

At St. Cloud the Queen had an interview with the 
celebrated demagogue orator Mirabeau, who had 
done so much harm to the royal cause, and who, 
being utterly unprincipled, had been won over by 
bribery. The Queen received him in the private 
gardens, and fascinated him so completely by her 
grace and charm of manner, that he left her saying 
with enthusiasm: "Madame, the monarchy is saved!" 

Large sums were given to him, which, no doubt, 
had more influence still than the poor Queen's at- 
tractions. He was a man to be bought and sold; 
consequently, notwithstanding undeniable genius, a 
contemptible character. He seemed, however, sin- 
cere, and might have been very useful to the royal 
cause; but his improved intentions were frustrated 
by his unexpected death, attributed to poison, which 
occurred in a short time. 

The court had returned to the Tuileries, and, as 
before, the King and Queen were besieged with con- 
tradictory advice and plans of conduct. The Queen 
often had interviews with Lafayette; but she did 
not like him, saying that he would sacrifice anything 
for the sake of popularity. 

Meanwhile, there had returned one valued friend, — 
Fersen, — with whom the Queen began to form plans 
of escape, and who was wholly devoted to her. The 
romantic dreams of past days were over: the Queen 



228 THE STORY OF MAEIE-AJSTTOINETTE 

had now learned to love the King with her whole 
heart, and he completely engrossed her thoughts. 
But a stanch friend remained, whom she knew how 
to appreciate. 

Unhappily, the success of arrangements such as 
those that the Queen was trying to settle generally 
depends on prompt execution ; but this was not un- 
derstood by the royal personages, whose practical 
knowledge of life was limited, and to whom a jour- 
ney, in those days of slow traveling, seemed a for- 
midable undertaking. The Queen ordered Madame 
Campan to have a whole outfit prepared for herseK 
and the royal children. In vain the more experi- 
enced lady of the bedchamber told her Majesty 
that a queen of France, even when a fugitive, would 
find necessaries everywhere. The Queen would not 
admit the possibility of relying on any resources 
but plentiful supplies kept in readiness and within 
reach. 

Royal ladies had not yet learned to fly without 
stopping to take an extra pocket-handkerchief ! 

The poor Queen, who was doomed by her fate to 
suffer the hardest privations, would not at that time 
be persuaded that she could undertake her journey 
without having a large chest of traveling requisites, 
containing everything that could possibly be wanted, 
from a silver warming-pan down to a drinking- 
bowl. The Queen had ordered this complicated trav- 
eling-case when the first insurrections suggested the 
possibility of precipitate flight becoming necessary ! 



PLANS FOR PLiaHT 229 

Madame Campan, mucli alarmed at this fancy, en- 
treated the Queen to consider the size and weight of 
a piece of furniture which could not be removed 
from her bedchamber without attracting notice and 
rousing suspicion. 

The Queen, however, was convinced that the pal- 
try excuse of sending it as a present to her sister 
the Archduchess Christina, wife of Prince Albert of 
Saxe-Teschen, Grovernor of the Netherlands, would 
suffice as a satisfactory explanation. Of course no- 
body believed this story ; and on the very day that 
the chest was removed, Bailly, the Mayor of Paris, 
was informed that the royal family were preparing 
to depart. 

The Queen's personal jewels were packed by her- 
self, with the assistance of Madame Campan, in a 
box which was intrusted to her hair-dresser, Leo- 
nard, who, with the Due de Choiseul, took them 
safely to Brussels, whence they were sent to Vienna. 
The crown jewels had been previously claimed by 
the state and given up by the Queen. 

A traveling-carriage had been ordered by the 
King, and the execution intrusted to the care of the 
Comte de Fersen. This immense and ponderous ve- 
hicle was prepared so as to contain every imagina- 
ble comfort for the journey. In vain the King's 
advisers urged the advantage of having two small 
mail-coaches, which would not attract attention, and 
would admit of greater speed; the royal party 
would not hear of being separated, which would, 



230 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOESfETTE 

however, have greatly facilitated their escape. But 
the Queen would neither leave the King nor her chil- 
dren ; Madame Elisabeth would not leave her brother; 
Madame de Tourzel claimed the right of sharing the 
danger to which her charges would be exposed, and 
which all this well-meaning sentimental devotion 
could not but greatly increase. 

The plan of escape had been concerted with the 
Comte de Bouille,^ who had advised Valenciennes as 
a place of refuge, the Flemish frontier being the 
nearest and most easy of access ; he suggested that 
the King could reach Montmedy, if he decided to do 
so, by going through the Netherlands and reentering 
France on the Austrian side. The King objected 
the risk of forfeiture of the crown if he left the 
country, even for a temporary absence, and de- 
termined to go straight to Montmedy, — a long and 
troublesome journey by unfrequented routes, where 
troops sent to meet him would probably attract too 
much attention. Bouille urged the necessity of hav- 
ing at least an experienced and energetic officer in 
the carriage with the fugitives, who could act for 
them in any unexpected emergency, and suggested 
Major d'Agoult as suitable for the mission to be 
fulfilled ; but the persistent claims of Madame de 
Tourzel ^ caused this to be set aside. 

The departure was delayed far too long, and too 

1 Commander of the army corps in the eastern region. 

2 Madame de Tourzel states in her memoirs that the matter was 
not fully explained to her. 



RUMORS IN THE PUBLIC WORLD 231 

many people were acquainted with the royal inten- 
tions. The higher functionaries were all loyal and 
devoted; but the numerous subordinates were not 
to be trusted, and rumors of a plan of flight were 
current in Paris. 

The "Mesdames de France," aunts of the King, 
succeeded in leaving the country early in the year 
1791, and much wished to take Madame Elisabeth 
with them ; but she absolutely refused to leave her 
brother, whose fate she was determined to share. 

Still the King delayed, saying that " the helm of 
the ship could not be forsaken during the storm," and 
his advisers vainly tried to bring him to an active 
decision. The Queen, with feverish anxiety, tried to 
rouse him from his apathy — to convince him that 
flight alone could bring safety. 

The removal to St. Cloud for the summer had been 
settled as usual, and all preparations made for the 
arrival of the royal party ; but when they took their 
seats in the carriage the National Guards closed the 
gates and refused to let them go. Lafayette at- 
tempted to exert his authority, and declared that 
he would force the passage if compelled to use 
violence, but could not obtain obedience ; and after 
a struggle which lasted for two hours, while the 
populace joined the guards with seditious cries, de- 
claring that the royal family should not go, the King, 
fearing mischief for his children, decided on remain- 
ing at the Tuileries, and the whole party sorrowfully 
returned to their apartments. The Queen, however, 



232 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

found some satisfaction in the thought that the con- 
straint to which they were subjected was thus fully- 
proved. She was in constant correspondence with 
her brother Leopold II, who had succeeded to Jo- 
seph II; but hitherto the means of coming to her 
assistance had not seemed clearly defined. The tide 
of emigration was increasing ; the exigencies of the 
succeeding assemblies likewise; anarchy reigned 
throughout the country, where no life was safe ; and 
the unfortunate King, in the vain hope of preventing 
bloodshed, yielded to all the demands presented to 
him, even to those contrary to his conscience as a 
good Catholic, such as the decrees confiscating the 
property of the church and the civil constitution of 
the clergy, forbidden by the Pope. The Emperor 
Leopold wrote to his sister Marie- Antoinette that he 
could do nothing so long as they had not left Paris ; 
and the King finally determined to try the plan of 
escape to Montmedy, where he would find Bouille 
and his important army corps as a support, which 
he hoped would enable him to treat with the parlia- 
mentary assembly to advantage, while the frontier 
was so near that it would be easy to find a refuge 
should matters continue their unfavorable progress. 
It was agreed that "Monsieur" and "Madame" 
(Comte and Comtesse de Provence) should leave 
Paris the same day, but by the Flanders route, and 
join the King as soon as he had reached the goal — 
Montmedy. 



CHAPTER XV 

Flight of the royal family — They are recognized on the road, 
and stopped at Varennes — Scenes in the house of the mayor 
— Eeturn to Paris — Bamave and Pethion — ^ Madame Elisa- 
beth and Bamave — Thraldom in Paris — Disappointment of 
the Queen — Eeturn of the Princesse de Lamballe — Kindness 
of the Queen toward those whose mismanagement had caused 
the failure of the journey — Mercy. 

THE time of departure was secretly fixed for the 
night of June 20; but the presence of an at- 
tendant whose loyalty was suspected, and whose 
"waiting" ended the next day, occasioned a delay 
till the 21st, which disturbed the calculations of the 
auxiliaries concerned. 

The usual ceremonies which attended the King 
and Queen when they retired to rest were gone 
through, and both were supposed to be safely in 
bed for the night, when the Queen rose, and dress- 
ing hastily in the most ordinary garb, went to her 
children, and dressed the Dauphin as a little girl, 
with the young princess, "Madame Royale." -Ma- 
dame de Tourzel, directed by the Queen, then passed 
through a door of communication which had been 
concealed by a piece of furniture, and leading her 
charges, she succeeded in leaving the palace unob- 



234 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

served, and reaching a shabby, common hackney- 
coach waiting on the Place du Carrousel. The 
coachman, who played his part to perfection, was 
no other than Fersen himself, who jested with other 
coachmen, took snuff with them, and seemed com- 
pletely one of themselves. Madame de Tourzel made 
the little Dauphin crouch down on the floor of the 
coach, concealed by the skirt of her dress. The child 
said innocently to his sister that he supposed they 
were going to act a play, as they were dressed up. 

Madame de Tourzel waited with increasing anx- 
iety, as she saw time go by and no one appear; 
but at last Madame Elisabeth came up, which re- 
vived hope. The King, however, did not come till 
after midnight, having been delayed by a conversa- 
tion with Bailly and Lafayette, which he dared not 
abridge for fear of rousing suspicion. 

But the Queen did not appear, and anxiety was 
great on all sides. The night was dark, and Paris 
was at that time badly lighted. The Queen, of course, 
never went on foot; the garde du corps who gave 
her his arm seems to have been as ignorant as 
herself of the streets about the palace, and by no 
means intelligent ; for they lost their way, and wan- 
dered about for some time before finding the coach 
where the other fugitives waited so anxiously. Now 
all seemed safe, and Fersen went at full speed to 
Bondy, near Paris, where they found the traveling- 
carriage and another with the Dauphin's women-at- 
tendants, whom the Queen wished to have with her. 



FLIGHT OF THE EOYAL FAMHiY 235 

Carriages, horses, and postillions were all ready, 
and Fersen took leave hopefully of the royal party. 
Madame de Tourzel was supposed to be the Baronne 
de Korff, a Russian lady whose passport Fersen had 
procured for the fugitives. The King and Queen 
with Madame Elisabeth figured as steward, gover- 
ness, and lady's-maid. 

As the distance from Paris widened hope increased 
and spirits rose, while the King made plans for the 
future, discoursing at length on his good intentions 
for the benefit of his people. 

"When once we shall have passed Chalons," he 
said confidently, " we shall be safe." 

Chalons was passed, but, alas ! they were not yet 
safe. The delay in leaving Paris, further increased 
by repairs to the carriage made necessary by trifling 
accidents on the road, had become so considerable 
that they missed in consequence the troops sent to 
escort them at several appointed places. 

At Sainte-Menehould, while the horses were being 
changed, the son of the postmaster, a man named 
Drouet, caught sight of the King's face in the car- 
riage, and, comparing it with the King's head on 
paper money, he was satisfied. He followed the car- 
riage to Clermont, and there hearing Varennes named 
as the next post, he rode across the country, reached 
the place before the royal carriage, and gave the 
alarm. 

At Clermont the fugitives had found the regiment 
commanded by the Comte de Damas, who had waited 



236 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

persistently, but so long that there was great ex- 
citement in the town, and finally the troops refused 
to obey orders. He then sent an officer as courier to 
precede the carriage and summon M. de Bouille to 
Varennes. But, with the ill fortune which attended 
the fugitives throughout, the messenger mistook the 
way, and arrived too late. 

With sad forebodings, but still "hoping against 
hope," they reached the wretched little town of Va- 
rennes, where Drouet had already roused the popu- 
lation and barricaded a bridge which the carriage 
must cross to continue the journey. Crowds rushed 
to stop the horses ; the King and Queen were finally 
forced to alight and to go into the grocer's shop of 
the mayor, named Sauce. The latter led the way 
up a narrow staircase to two miserable rooms full of 
bales of sugar and tallow candles for the shop below. 
There was a bed, on which the tired children lay down 
and were soon fast asleep. Drums were beating, 
alarm-bells were ringing, and crowds of armed peas- 
ants from the surrounding villages were coming into 
the town to join the inhabitants. 

Sauce addressed the King with some civility, 
saying that they had been informed of the presence 
of their King in the town, and that the municipal 
council was deliberating whether it was advisable to 
allow him to continue his journey. Louis XYI tried 
to equivocate. Sauce then changed his tone, and 
a sharp altercation followed. The Queen, seeing that 
denial and resistance were useless, then said with 



SCENES IN THE HOUSE OF THE MAYOR 237 

characteristic spirit and a glance which silenced her 
adversary: "If you recognize your King, respect 
him ! " 

Louis XVI then tried to explain his motives, his 
good intentions, his position in Pa,ris, and the neces- 
sity of reaching a distant town where he could in 
peace take measures for the happiness of his people. 

Those present, including the mayor himself, seemed 
moved ; the Queen, leaning on a package of candles, 
was looking at the sleeping children, while an old 
grandmother knelt down by their bed and shed 
tears. 

With a gleam of hope, the Queen turned to the 
mayor's wife, who also seemed affected by the scene, 
and earnestly appealed to her to save their lives. 

" Madame," said the woman roughly, but with tears 
in her eyes, " they would kill Monsieur Sauce. He 
is responsible, you see. I love my King ; but then I 
love my husband too." 

The argument of the ^^)Oor woman was so natural 
that it is scarcely possible to blame her, dreadful as 
the consequences must be to the royal party. 

The escort which they had expected to meet at 
Varennes, but which under present circumstances 
would in any case have proved insufficient, had been 
prevented from reaching them by the barricaded 
bridge. Several officers, however, managed to pass, 
and before the King had been absolutely forced to 
leave his carriage one had whispered to him : " There 
is a ford ; I will try to get you over." 



238 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

But the King feared injury to his children, and 
would not consent while it was still practicable to 
try this desperate resource. Now that they were 
prisoners in the house of Sauce, surrounded by a 
threatening crowd, strong measures had ceased to be 
possible. In all probability, had the King been alone 
he could have been saved; but a party of ladies and 
children complicated matters so as to paralyze the 
energy of those who would have made every effort 
to help him. 

The only hope left lay now in the arrival of Bouille 
with an important military force. 

Eight hours of agonized suspense passed thus — 
listening in expectation, hoping, fearing, while the 
Queen paced the room restlessly, or threw herself on 
a chair, conquered by physical fatigue. 

At an early hour of the morning two messengers 
from the Paris Assembly were announced, bearing a 
decree ordering all whom it might concern to give 
due assistance for the safe return of the King and 
his family to Paris. 

One of the bearers was an aide-de-camp to Lafay- 
ette, who obeyed orders with great and evident re- 
gret. The Queen received the decree with a burst 
of indignation, and would have torn it if the King 
had not stopped her. 

After long resistance, in the hope of the arrival of 
Bouille, the King and Queen both earnestly pleading 
the excessive fatigue of the children, they recognized 
the impossibility of further delay, and sorrowfully 



RETURN TO PARIS 239 

yielded to force, resuming their seats in tlie carriage 
which they had hoped would take them to security 
and liberty, and in which they must now return to 
thraldom and peril.^ 

The journey was rendered doubly painful by the 
crowd which constantly, from one village to another, 
followed the carriage with vociferation and insults. 
At a short distance from Yarennes, Monsieur de 
Dampierre, who with loyal and respectful intentions 
had tried to reach the carriage, was brutally mur- 
dered by the crowd, to the horror and grief of the 
royal family. 

At Chalons they found some comfort, the town 
being loyal and the inhabitants much distressed at 
the situation of the King and Queen. Marie- Antoi- 
nette had stopped there on her journey through 
France as Dauphine, and had been received with 
enthusiasm. She now alighted at the same house 
where she had rested then after passing under 
triumphal arches and receiving flowers accompanied 
with cries of welcome. Many of those present re- 
membered the past, and expressed their sorrow to 
the Queen with tears. Flowers were again offered to 
her, and she found some comfort in these marks of 
sympathy at a time when all seemed to forsake her. 

Some of the inhabitants of Chalons offered to 
show the King a private exit concealed in the 
house where the royal family lodged, and to secure 
his safety by means at their disposal ; but they could 

1 Bouill6 and Ms troops reached Varennes shortly after their departure. 



240 THE STORY OP MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

not undertake to deliver more than the King alone, 
and he refused to leave his family in danger. Had 
he been free like Charles 11 of England, he would 
have found many means of effecting his escape. 

Near Epernay the "commissaries" sent by the As- 
sembly reached the King's carriage. Pethion, a 
Jacobin or ultra-republican, and Barnave, of the 
more moderate party, took their seats in the crowded 
carriage, obliging the Queen to take the Dauphin on 
her knee, while Madame de Tourzel and Madame 
Elisabeth alternately took the young princess, " Ma- 
dame Royale." Pethion was an ill-bred, vulgar cox- 
comb, whose presumption and offensive familiarity 
shocked the feelings of the royal fugitives, who took 
refuge in silence. Barnave, grave and reserved, was 
a gentleman, and behaved like one. After some 
time Madame Elisabeth, pleased with his appearance 
and manner, entered into conversation with him, and 
began a clear and concise justification of the King's 
conduct since the beginning of the Eevolution. The 
Queen from time to time added a word ; but com- 
ment was unnecessary, as what was said by Madame 
Elisabeth was amply sufficient, and Barnave seemed 
much impressed. 

A priest who had tried to approach the King's 
carriage was on the point of being massacred like 
Monsieur de Dampierre. Madame Elisabeth uttered 
a cry of entreaty to Barnave, who vigorously inter- 
fered, and succeeded in his effort to save the poor 
priest. In his anxiety he was nearly thrown out of 



THEALDOM IN PARIS 241 

the carriage, and Madame Elisabeth held him by the 
coat, which almost brought a smile to the lips of the 
Queen, who afterward mentioned the incident as 
one of the most curious during the journey : 

"The pious Elisabeth holding on to the republi- 
can deputy ! " 

As they drew near to Paris the heat was intense, 
and the dust, like a thick fog surrounding the car- 
riage, almost suffocated the unfortunate travelers, 
who reached Paris in a state of complete exhaustion. 
The King seemed to feel a sort of relief on finding 
himself in his home again. The Queen was more 
under the influence of bitter disappointment. 

The difficulties and sufferings of their position 
were considerably increased by the ill-fated attempt 
at flight. National guards were placed everywhere, 
and continual watch was established over the King 
and Queen. The latter had lost the power of 
sleep, and the nights seemed so endless that she or- 
dered her shutters to be left open that the first ray 
of daylight might be welcomed. 

An officer was stationed in an arm-chair before 
the open door of her room, and permission to have 
the bed of an attendant lady placed before that of the 
Queen as a screen was not granted without difficulty. 
During the day the door of the room where the 
royal party assembled was required to be left open 
that the guards might see and hear all that was said 
or done there. The King having tried to close the 
door, it was immediately opened, and the command- 



242 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

ing officer said firmly : "Allow this door to remain 
open. Such are my orders." 

Madame Campan states that during the single night 
spent at Varennes the Queen's hair had become as 
white as that of a woman of seventy. There must 
be considerable exaggeration in this statement, for 
the servant-girl who attended her immediately be- 
fore her execution states that her hair was white at 
the temples only, but not perceptibly gray elsewhere. 

"Monsieur" and "Madame" (Comte and Comtesse 
de Provence) had succeeded in effecting their escape 
to Brussels, and thence went to Coblentz to join the 
headquarters of the emigrant forces commanded by 
the Prince de Conde and the Comte d'Artois. The 
Princesse de Lamballe had intended to go to Eng- 
land, and was on her way when the news of the 
failure of the journey to Varennes reached her. The 
Queen wrote again and again entreating her not to 
come back to the Tuileries, on account of the ever- 
increasing danger ; but she would not be prevented, 
and returned to meet a horrible death. 

The Queen attributed the disastrous result of the 
unfortunate journey to Varennes entirely to the 
clumsiness of the auxiliaries employed to carry out 
the somewhat complicated arrangements of escorts, 
who were to meet them at certain places and failed 
to do so without any attempt to go beyond the 
places mentioned, in case they should have been ac- 
cidentally delayed, which was the fact. 

M. de Groguelat, who was supposed to be energetic 



KINDNESS OP THE QUEEN 243 

and resolute as well as thoroughly devoted to the 
King, had not even thought of sending vedettes to 
meet the carriage, which had not arrived at the ap- 
pointed time; but at once concluded that the jour- 
ney had been put off. Fearing to attract attention, 
he then left the highroad and followed cross-ways, 
without taking any means of informing the travelers 
of what had been done, should they unexpectedly 
arrive. 

This disappointment, which brought others by dis- 
turbing the chain of escorts which had been prepared 
to meet the royal party and take them from stage 
to stage, was, in the Queen's opinion, the first cause 
of all the woes which awaited them ; but to the sur- 
prise of those who knew the circumstances, M. de 
Groguelat was most kindly received when he ap- 
peared at the palace. Some remark being made to 
the Queen, she replied that he had acted for the best, 
according to his apprehension, and that she could 
not retain or show rancor for an error in judgment. 
According to the universal testimony of those around 
her, all the sufferings and anxieties of her daily life 
never ruffled her temper nor disturbed her habitual 
equanimity. She remained, as ever, the most ami- 
able of women, always ready to say a kind word or 
to do a kind act, and much more anxious as regards 
the comfort of her attendants than disturbed by her 
own privations. 

The poor Queen wrote incessantly to all those 
from whom she hoped to receive aid. She had 



244 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

adopted an ingenious cipher: each, correspondent 
had a copy of " Paul and Virginia," the well-known 
story, taking care to have the same edition. The 
figures used indicated the page and words, which, 
being detached, formed complete sentences. The 
Queen wrote frequently thus to her brothers-in-law, 
to Leopold II at Vienna, to Mercy, who was re- 
placed at Paris by a charge d'affaires, and to G-us- 
tavus III of Sweden, who showed a warm interest. 

Madame de Tourzel, however, states that the Queen 
was much pained by the conduct of Mercy. One 
day, when alone with the Princesse de Tarente and 
Madame de Tourzel, Marie- Antoinette suddenly ad- 
dressed them, saying : 

"I must open my heart to friends whom I can 
trust like yourselves, and on whose attachment I 
can rely. I am wounded to the quick in my deepest 
feelings. When I first came to France I trusted 
completely Monsieur de Mercy, by my mother's ad- 
vice. She said to me: 'He knows France well, 
having been ambassador there for so long a time; 
he can only give you the best advice as to the coun- 
try where you will reign ; look upon it as if it came 
from me, and be assured that you can only receive 
good advice from him.' I was only fourteen; I 
loved and respected my mother ; I put my trust en- 
tirely in Monsieur de Mercy ; I looked upon him as 
a father ; and I have now the grief of seeing how 
completely I was deceived, and how little he cares for 
my sad position." 



MEECY 245 

The fact was that Mercy was essentially a courtier 
and a diplomatist who strove to please the sovereign 
whom he served and from whom he expected per- 
sonal advantage. So long as the maternal anxiety 
of Maria Theresa watched over Marie- Antoinette, he 
was devoted to her; when her brothers in succession 
became his masters, he followed their comparative 
indifference. But the lesson of selfish worldliness 
was deeply painful to the warm-hearted and sincere 
Marie- Antoinette. 

Fersen had gone to Brussels after taking the royal 
family to Bondy, and was not able to return to France. 
Bouille, heartbroken at the failure of the attempt to 
escape, had left France, where his life would have 
been sacrificed ; but he wrote to the Assembly, boldly 
taking on himself the whole blame of having per- 
suaded the King to try to reach Montmedy and the 
frontier. 

Thus, one by one, the most devoted servants of the 
royal cause disappeared. 



CHAPTEE XVI 

A new Assembly — A new constitution — Fears of poison — Death 
of Leopold II — Assassination of Gustavns III — The little Dau- 
phin — The Queen's comfort — Bamave sacrifices his life — ^War 
with Austria declared — Unfortunate attempt of the king to 
destroy a libel against the Queen — The King refuses his con- 
sent to a decree sentencing to transportation the priests who 
had refused to take the schismatic oath — Insurrection of the 
populace — Insurrection of the 20th of June — The populace 
burst into the Tuileries — Coolness and courage of the King — 
Heroic conduct of Madame Elisabeth — Dignity of the Queen 
— Admiration shown to the Dauphin — The Queen seeks the in- 
tervention of the European powers — The terrible 10th August 
— The royal family take refuge in the National Assembly. 



THE new Assembly was more hostile than the for- 
mer ones, and a new constitution was prepared. 
The King accepted it, as he accepted everything de- 
manded of him ; but the princes at the head of the 
emigre army protested, and the announcement to the 
various powers was coldly received. 

The King, however, went to the Assembly formally 
to accept the constitution; but he was received so 
discourteously that he came back deeply affected; 
also the Queen was much agitated. She passed into 
her private room, where the King followed her. He 
was so pale that the Queen anxiously asked if he was 



A NEW CONSTITUTION 247 

ill. He sank into a chair and sobbed aloud, hold- 
ing his handkerchief over his face. 

" All is lost ! Ah, Madame, and you witnessed 
such humiliation! You have come to France to 
see — " The Queen threw herself on her knees be- 
fore him, and clasped him in her arms. Madame 
Campan, struck dumb with astonishment, lost her 
presence of mind and remained motionless. The 
Queen cried to her : " Oh, go away ! go ! " but in a 
tone which merely implied, " Do not remain to wit- 
ness such a scene ! " 

The new constitution destroyed court privileges, 
and many ladies sent in their resignation, to the sor- 
row of the Queen, who saw herself forsaken by her 
followers when they lost so much less than she lost 
herself. 

The sudden death of the Emperor Leopold, which 
the Queen attributed to poison, and the assassination 
of Gustavus III, brought more serious grief to the 
Queen. Gustavus, the day before he succumbed to 
the wound received at the fatal masked ball, sent 
word to the King and Queen of France that he espe- 
cially regretted the injury to their interests that his 
death would probably cause. 

The King and Queen were warned that one of the 
cooks in the royal kitchen had said that it would do 
good service to the country if the King's life were 
shortened. 

It was settled therefore that henceforward the 
royal party would eat only roast meat, and that the 



248 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

bread used would be brought by a devoted attendant 
named Thierry, who would also bring wine. The King 
liked pastry, which was bought by Madame Campan 
in different pastry-cooks' shops. The powdered sugar 
was also kept in her room. The princesses drank 
only water, and the King never drank at a meal 
more than half a bottle of wine mixed with water. 
The etiquette of former days had been suppressed, 
and the constraint of the first period after the return 
from Varennes had been somewhat relaxed ; so the 
Queen and Madame Elisabeth dined with the King, 
without any attendance whatever (except when they 
rang for it), so as to secure free conversation. Madame 
Campan and Thierry brought what they had pro- 
vided, which was concealed under the table, and 
took away the suspicious wine and pastry. 

This distressing state of affairs lasted for several 
months ; happily, they were then informed that the 
danger of poison had ceased. 

For a short time after the acceptance of the con- 
stitution by the King a little more liberty was al- 
lowed, and the Queen was able to drive out with her 
children — a great boon especially to the poor little 
Dauphin, for whom change of scene and recreation 
were so necessary. He was a most affectionate and 
amiable child, grateful for any mark of attachment, 
and, like his mother, always ready to say some kind 
word or to pay some graceful attention. He had a 
little garden of his own on the terrace bordering the 
Seine, and he delighted in offering his flowers in the 



THE LITTLE DAUPHIN 249 

prettiest manner. He enjoyed Ms lessons witli his 
tutor, who knew how to make them interesting. 
One day he deeply affected those who heard his in- 
nocent talk and foresaw only too surely what the 
future would bring to the sweet child whom all 
loved. 

As he finished his lesson he said brightly to his 
teacher : " My good abbe, I am so happy ! I have 
such a kind papa, such a kind mama, and a second 
papa, a second mama, in you and my good Madame 
de Tourzel ! " ^ 

Poor child, how long was he to be " so happy " ? 

The Queen's apartments on the ground floor were 
not considered safe at night, and she was persuaded 
to sleep in the apartment of her children on the 
first floor. The poor little Dauphin only under- 
stood that his dear mother was to be near him, and 
was delighted. When morning came he ran to her, 
clasping her in his baby arms, and saying the pret- 
tiest things imaginable to show how he loved her. 
This was the happiest time in the day for the poor 
Queen. 

Barnave had not forgotten the interest which his 
short intercourse with the royal family had awakened 
in his mind. He had interviews with the Queen, and 
tried to direct her influence in political matters. She 
submitted to his wishes and plans to a certain ex- 
tent — greatly blamed by Mercy ; so that amid such 
conflicting advice, the Queen was driven to a degree 

1 See memoirs of Madame de Tourzel. 



250 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

of vacillation which obliged Barnave to retire. In a 
last interview, he bade her farewell in an affecting 
manner : 

"Your misfortunes, Madame, and those which I 
foresee for France, had determined me to devote 
myself to serve you. I see that my advice does not 
agree with the views of your Majesties. I have not 
much hope of success for the plan which you are in- 
duced to follow ; you are too far from the help which 
you expect ; you will be lost before it can reach you. 
I earnestly hope that I may be mistaken in such 
a painful prophecy ; but I am sure of paying with 
my head for the interest which your misfortunes 
have awakened in me. I ask as my only recom- 
pense the honor of kissing your hand." ^ 

The Queen, weeping bitterly, gave him her hand, 
and retained a feeling of mingled esteem and friend- 
ship for Barnave, shared by Madame Elisabeth, and 
often expressed in their conversations. 

The King had been reduced to the condition of 
a mere automaton, signing everything presented to 
him by the Assembly, which now insisted on his de- 
claring war against Austria. With what a struggle 
he again consented may be imagined and it was only 
too visible when he went, pale and agitated, to give 
his official adhesion to the will of the country. 

The first reverses exasperated the nation, which 
threw all the blame on the King and Queen (an act 

1 Barnave died on the scaffold, October 29, 1793, a few days after the 
execution of Marie-Antoinette. 



ATTEMPT TO DESTROY A LIBEL 251 

of injustice which was repeated in 1870, after the 
declaration of war so reluctantly signed by Napo- 
leon III). 

Madame Campan was informed shortly afterward 
that the workmen of the manufactory of Sevres had 
brought to the Assembly a quantity of printed sheets? 
which they declared to be a life of Marie- Antoinette. 
The director of the manufactory, being called upon 
to explain, stated that he had received an order to 
burn all this printed matter in the ovens used for 
firing the china. 

"While Madame Campan was making this commu- 
nication to the Queen, the King reddened and hung 
his head. The Queen then said : " Monsieur, have 
you any knowledge of what this means ? " 

The King made no reply. Madame Elisabeth then 
asked for an explanation ; still the King was silent. 
Madame Campan then retired ; but in a few minutes 
the Queen herself came to her, with the information 
that the King, in the hope of suppressing a horrible 
libel by Madame de La Motte (the heroine of the 
necklace intrigue), directed against the Queen, had 
bought the whole edition and given orders for its 
immediate destruction; but that these orders had 
been so clumsily executed, that the whole had been 
sent to Sevres, where the two hundred workmen em- 
ployed in the manufactory had every opportunity of 
becoming acquainted with what the King had hoped 
to annihilate. The Queen was much distressed; 
but as the King was still more affected, she tried to 



252 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

conceal her own feelings, so as not to increase Ms 
regret for a mistake due to the best intentions. 

The King, yielding to force and threats of a gen- 
eral massacre of the clergy, had signed the famous 
decree called that of the civil constitution of the 
church in France. This he never ceased bitterly to 
regret, for this constitution had been rejected by 
the Pope, while all priests who adhered to it and 
took this oath were placed under interdict. 

A schism then broke out in the French church, 
which was divided into the " swearing " priests, as 
they were called, and the orthodox Catholics who 
refused the forbidden oath. The latter were treated 
as rebels and subjected to incessant persecution. 

The Assembly now demanded the King's signature 
to a new decree, sentencing all the priests who had 
refused the oath to be transported. 

To this the King opposed a resolute veto. In vain 
the ministers sent in their resignations, and others 
made their retention of office conditional on the 
withdrawal of the King's veto; for the first time 
Louis XVI was firm, and determined to endure any 
consequences rather than permit such iniquity. 

There was considerable agitation among the popu- 
lace, and the resolution of "presenting a petition" 
was adopted by an immense crowd of rioters. On 
June 20, 1792, the multitude had assembled at five 
o'clock in the morning on the Place de la Bastille. 
At noon they had reached the National Assembly, 
then located at what was called the "Manege" (or 



INSUERECTION OF THE 20TH OF JUNE 253 

riding-seliool), situated close to the terrace called 
"des Feuillants," on the space now devoted to the 
Rue de Eivoli. The railing which now separates the 
garden from the street was then represented by a 
low wall. 

The populace, armed with pikes, axes, and butchers' 
knives, accompanied by women in a state of intoxi- 
cation, dancing and waving swords, broke into the 
Assembly, rushed into the garden, and passed before 
the palace, coming out by the gate opposite to the 
bridge, and then going round to the side facing the 
Place du Carrousel. There they burst into the palace, 
rushing up the great staircase into the Salle des Mare- 
chaux (then called Salle des Cent Suisses). Hearing 
the noise, Louis XVI resolutely came forward to meet 
the rioters, passing through the Salon Louis XIV, ^ 
and remained to receive their onslaught in the Salon 
d'ApoUon.^ An officer and a few grenadiers then 
barricaded the door leading to the Salle des Gardes, 
which the populace had already reached. "Four 
grenadiers, come to me ! " said Louis XVI. One of 
these said : " Do not be afraid. Sire." 

"Put your hand on my heart," exclaimed the 
King, "and see yourself whether it beats faster." 

The poor man was afterward guillotined for hav- 
ing quoted this incident ; " thus showing," according 
to the sentence, " that he had the feelings of a mean 
lackey of the tyrant." 

1 Used habitually as a dining-room under Napoleon m. 
2 Where the imperial court under Napoleon III met every evening. 



254 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

Madame Elisabetli, who had hastened to join her 
brother, cried aloud, with tears : " Grentlemen, save 
the King!" 

A horrible noise of blows directed against the door 
was now heard. Axes broke the panels, the door gave 
way, and the murderous, maddened crowd rushed in. 
The King met them, undaunted. Seeing Madame 
Elisabeth, there was a burst of cries : " Death to the 
Austrian!^ The friendly spectators quickly ex- 
claimed : " No, no ! It is not the Queen. It is 
Madame Elisabeth ! " 

" Oh, why undeceive them ? " said the heroic Prin- 
cess. " The mistake might give her time to escape ! " 

A pike threatened to pierce her ; she gently pushed 
it away, saying : " Take care, monsieur ! You might 
hurt somebody, and I am sure that you would be 
sorry." 

Even the brute whom she addressed was abashed, 
and the weapon was lowered. 

It is related as an example of heroic courage on the 
part of the great Spanish commander Gonsalvo de 
Cordova, that on a similar occasion he pushed away 
a threatening weapon, saying : " Mira que sen querer 
no me hieras."^ 

This act, quoted as an instance of heroism on the 
part of a veteran warrior, was thus performed with 
perfect simplicity and sweet composure by this young 
royal lady under circumstances of still greater horror 
and danger. 

1 " Take care lest, without intending it, yon should hurt me." 



HEEOIC CONDUCT 255 

The tumult increased, the noise and threatening 
cries were terrific. The grenadiers pushed the King 
into the recess formed by one of the deep windows, 
and stood before him like a wall of defense, having 
first placed a barricade of benches. 

One of the ruffians who came before him insisted 
upon his wearing the red cap of liberty, which he 
consented to place on his head, and then uncon- 
sciously retained it, to the great vexation of the 
royalists. 

The tumult lasted till eight o'clock in the evening, 
when Pethion, then mayor of Paris, succeeded in 
persuading the crowd to pass through the rooms and 
leave the King. 

The Queen had striven to join him at the first 
outbreak, but had been forcibly detained by her at- 
tendants, who told her that her presence would only 
exasperate the populace and make the King's posi- 
tion more difficult. Nevertheless, she desperately 
strove to go to him. 

"My place is with the King; I must die by his 
side," she repeated. 

"Your place is with your children," urged the 
Princesse de Lamballe. 

The Queen was forcibly taken to the Salle du 
Conseil,^ where the large table used for the coun- 
cils was put across the room, and the Queen with 
her children and her faithful ladies were placed be- 
hind it. 

1 Salon Louis XIV. 



256 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

She remained perfectly calm and dignified as the 
horrible crowd rushed in — the lowest dregs of the 
Parisian populace, who insulted her in the coarsest 
terms. She reddened, occasionally her eyes flashed, 
but through it all she looked them firmly in the face, 
and remained, as ever, a royal queen. 

The women who insulted her could not help ad- 
miring the little Dauphin, who sat on the table be- 
fore her; and the exclamation, "Oh, what a beautiful 
child!" was heard repeated. One of the viragos 
cried: "If you love the nation, put the red cap on 
the head of your son ! " 

The child was frightened, and clung to his mother; 
but she smiled to him, and put the cap on his golden 
curls. Santerre, one of the leaders, softened at the 
sight of the pretty boy, murmured something about 
" the heat," and removed it. 

One of the women addressed the coarsest abuse to 
the Queen, and shook her fist in her face. 

"What have I done to you?" said Marie- Antoi- 
nette. 

"Nothing to me, but you have done great injury 
to the nation." 

"You have been told so," said the Queen; "but 
you have been deceived. I am the wife of your 
King, the mother of the Dauphin. I have no other 
country but France, where I must live and die. I 
was happy here when you loved me." 

The woman shed tears, and said: "I was mis- 
taken — forgive me. I see that you are good." 




THE DAUPHIN LOUIS-JOSEPH AND HIS SISTER 
THE DUCHESSE D'ANGOULEME. 



FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT 4 CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTING BY MME. VIGEE LEBRUN, 
IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. 



NAPOLEON AND THE ''CANAILLE" 257 

Those around her cried that she was under the 
influence of drink, and she was hustled away. 

From time to time Madame Elisabeth found means 
of informing the Queen that the King was unhurt; 
hut three hours of torture had to be endured before 
she could join him and be delivered from her perse- 
cutors, who left the palace in a state of devastation, 
with all the rooms and furniture injured, soiled, or 
destroyed. 

During these horrible scenes it is said that a young 
man, yet unknown to fame, stood on the terrace bor- 
dering the river, watching the hideous crowd as it 
poured out of the palace, and that he exclaimed: 
"What! have they not even a cannon which could 
sweep away that canaille f " The young man was 
named Napoleon Bonaparte, and afterward proved 
that he knew how to use cannon. But, alas! even 
he could not help the unfortunate Louis XVI. 

After the fearful scenes of the 20th of June, one of 
the ministers, Bertrand de Molleville, had an inter- 
view ^ with the King, in which he tendered his con- 
gratulations on his escape from the dangers of the 
preceding day. The King answered in an indifferent 
tone : " All my anxiety was for the Queen and for 
my sister ; as for myself — " 

" But, surely, the insurrection was principally di- 
rected against your Majesty ? " 

" I know it ; I saw full well that they wanted to 
murder me, and I don't know why they did not do it. 

1 June 21, 1792. 

17 



258 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

But I shall not escape another time, so that I have 
not gained much. There is no great difference in be- 
ing murdered two months sooner or later." 

" Grood heavens, Sire ! Does your Majesty really 
believe so completely in being murdered ? " 

" Yes, I have expected it for a long time, and I have 
made up my mind. Do you suppose that I fear death ? " 

" No, certainly not ; but I should wish to see your 
Majesty less disposed to await death, and more in- 
clined to take vigorous measures, which alone can 
save the King." 

" I believe this, but there are many ill chances to 
encounter, and I am not a fortunate man. I should 
not feel any difficulty in coming to a decision if I had 
not my family with me. I should then prove that I am 
not so weak as I am supposed to be. But what would 
become of my wife and children if I did not succeed?" 

"But does your Majesty think that if you were 
murdered your family would be more safe ? " 

"Yes, I believe it, or at least I hope so; and if 
things turned out otherwise, I should be spared the 
self-reproach of being the cause." 

It is evident once more that Louis XVI was para- 
lyzed by his fears for those dear to him, and that he 
would have shown a totally different character if 
he had been free from family ties around him. 

After the horrible experience of the 20th of June, 
the King and Queen lost all hope, save through the 
active interference of the European powers, for which, 
in her letters to her own family the Queen passion- 



THE TERRIBLE lOTH OF AUGUST 259 

ately pressed. Lafayette, indignant at the scenes 
which they had been called upon to endure, left his 
army and brought to the Assembly a petition with 
twenty thousand signatures protesting against the 
insults and violence shown to the King and the royal 
family. He offered his army to the King, proposing 
to take them all to Eouen, where they could resist 
with more chance of success. Unhappily, the King 
and Queen mistrusted Lafayette, and refused his aid. 

Every day brought fresh threats of an attack on 
the palace, and the ladies of the bedchamber refused 
to go to bed, watching all night. There were several 
false alarms ; but it was admitted by all that danger 
was at hand. 

On the 9th of August the Assembly received notice 
that a great insurrection was in preparation for the 
next day, provoked by the proclamation of the Duke 
of Brunswick and the threatened invasion of France. 

The alarm-bell began to peal at midnight ; the 
Queen and Madame Elisabeth lay down on sofas 
while waiting for the attack. The Swiss Guards 
were resolute, and stood in array to defend the palace; 
the National Gruards were also faithful; the Queen 
began to hope that the rioters might be repulsed. 
A shot was fired in the courtyard; the Queen rose 
calmly from her sofa, followed by Madame Elisabeth. 

" This is the first shot; it will not be the last. Let us 
go to the King." At four o'clock the Queen left the 
King's room, saying that all was lost. Mandat, the 
faithful commander of the National Gruards, had 



260 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

been murdered, and his head was carried through 
the streets. 

It was now broad daylight ; the King, the Queen, 
Madame Elisabeth, and the royal children went into 
the garden, and passed through the ranks of the ar- 
tillerymen stationed there, who showed the worst 
possible inclinations, even to shaking their fists in 
the King's face. He was deadly pale, but showed 
no spirit; and the Queen felt that this sort of re- 
view had done more harm than good. 

A number of gentlemen belonging to the highest 
nobility, many of whom were advanced in years, 
gathered round the King, ready to sacrifice their 
lives, for they could do little else, being too insuffi- 
ciently provided with arms. 

But while all were in expectation of the final ca- 
tastrophe, Roederer, the " procureur-syndic," came 
with several other deputies to entreat the King not 
to continue useless defense, but to take refuge in the 
National Assembly as the only means of saving his 
life and that of the royal family. The Queen vehe- 
mently resisted the proposal, but Roederer replied 
with some sternness that perhaps in a quarter of 
an hour it would be too late, and that she would 
be responsible for the lives of the King and all the 
royal family. " But, Monsieur Eoederer," exclaimed 
the Queen, "will you answer for the lives of the 
King and of my children if we follow you ? " 

" Madame," was the reply, " we will die by your 
side, but we can promise no more." 



REFUaE IN THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY 261 

The Queen then yielded, though reluctantly, and 
the whole royal party walked through the garden 
to reach the Assembly, followed by the Princesse de 
Lamballe and Madame de Tourzel, who was thus 
obliged to leave her young daughter at the mercy 
of the rioters. The Princesse de Tarente, one of the 
Queen's ladies, promised to remain near her, and to 
take her mother's place as far as possible. 

We will not dwell on the horrors of the massacre 
at the Tuileries. Mademoiselle de Tourzel managed 
to escape, and in a few days was allowed to join her 
mother. The princesses had left the palace without 
being able to take anything with them, and were in 
want of the commonest necessaries. The Duchesse 
de Grammont and the wife of the British ambassa- 
dor, Lady Sutherland, provided the Queen with linen 
and other requisites. 

The Assembly finally decreed the forfeiture of the 
crown, and assigned to the royal family as a resi- 
dence the tower belonging to a palace called " Le 
Temple," which had been used in olden times by the 
Knights Templars, and had been afterward the prop- 
erty of the Comte d'Artois. 



CHAPTEE XVII 

The tkree days at Les Feuillants — The royal family removed to 
the Temple tower — Arrest of the Princesse de LambaUe, and 
of Madame and Mademoiselle de Tourzel — Madame Elisa- 
beth's gown — Privations and anxieties — Daily hf e of the 
royal family — The Queen's dress — The King directs the 
studies of his son and the Queen those of her daughter — 
Gross insults and petty vexations. 



WHEN the Queen heard that they were to be 
transferred to the Temple tower she shuddered. 
She had always felt a particular horror for that build- 
ing, as if through a presentiment of evil, and had re- 
peatedly begged the Comte d'Artois to pull it down. 
The royal family left Les Feuillants for the 
Temple tower on August 13, the fourth day after 
they had quitted the Tuileries.^ The three inter- 
vening days had been spent in the so-called " box " 
ijoge) used by the journalists of the paper called 
" Le Logographe," where they were crowded to ex- 
cess, with their followers, under a low roof formed 
by the gallery above them, and where they suffered 
acutely from suffocating heat and want of air to 
breathe, while they were obliged to hear their future 
fate discussed by the Assembly, and to learn all 

1 At eight o'clock in the morning of August 10, 1792. 

262 



THE THEEE DAYS AT LES PEUILLANTS 263 

the horrible details of the massacre at the Tuileries. 
At night they slept in the narrow cells of the build- 
ing of Les Feuillants, formerly a convent of monks. 
Some of the faithful attendants had obtained leave 
to accompany the royal family to the Temple. Ma- 
demoiselle de Tourzel was included in the number, 
the anxiety and grief of the little Dauphin while 
her fate remained uncertain having touched the 
hearts of some of the deputies. Madame Campan 
entreated to be allowed to follow the Queen, but 
was refused, the number of attendants authorized 
to remain with the royal prisoners being extremely 
limited. 

At six in the evening one of the large vehicles of 
the court, such as are unknown at the present time, 
came to take the King and the royal family to the 
Temple. The footmen who, for the last time, at- 
tended their sovereign, wore gray overcoats con- 
cealing their liveries. Several officers of the muni- 
cipal police accompanied the King and Queen in the 
large carriage. 

The King, the Queen, and the royal children sat 
facing the horses ; opposite were Madame Elisa- 
beth, the Princesse de Lamballe, and Pethion, the 
Mayor of Paris. Pauline de Tourzel and her mother 
were at one of the doors, and two municipal officers 
at the other, the latter keeping on their hats and 
affecting the most insolent airs. The moment the 
carriage passed through the gate of Les Feuillants 
there was a burst of insulting cries from the hostile 



264 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

crowd, who followed till it reached the Temple — 
a slow drive of two hours and a half in the midst 
of insults and threats loudly vociferated. 

When they reached the prison they found it 
illuminated as a sign of public rejoicing; and they 
were received by members of the Commune, who 
treated them with the coarsest rudeness. 

The Temple prison consisted of one large tower 
of considerable height, with turrets at the angles ; 
a smaller tower, of lesser height, was annexed, and 
seemed to form a part of the other one, but was, in 
fact, separate. 

The royal family were at first located in the 
smaller tower. Each floor comprised two rooms 
separated by a sort of small anteroom which served 
as a passage from one to the other. The Queen 
and her daughter were on the first floor; the Prin- 
cesse de Lamballe had a bed in the intervening ante- 
room; and Madame de Tourzel was in the second 
chamber with the Dauphin. The King was above, 
with a barrack-room next to his. 

There was no bedchamber left for Madame Elisa- 
beth, who was put into a repulsively dirty kitchen. 
As usual, she showed the most gentle, uncomplain- 
ing resignation; and calling Mademoiselle de Tourzel 
to her side, she simply undertook to " take care of 
Pauline," for whom she had a bed made up next to 
her own. The noise of the soldiers in the adjoining 
room precluded all possibility of sleep. 

They rose early the next morning, and going 



REMOVED TO THE TEMPLE TOWER 265 

down-stairs at eight o'clock, found the Queen up 4nd 
dressed. Her room being the largest and the most 
cheerful (as it looked upon a garden, though a gloomy 
one), it was settled that it should be used as a sitting- 
room ; so the whole party remained there during the 
day, and only went up-stairs to go to bed. But alas ! 
they were never alone ; a municipal guard, changed 
every hour, remained in the room, and thus prevented 
any private or confidential conversation. 

Pauline de Tourzel had of course taken nothing 
with her from the Tuileries, and had only the torn 
and stained gown in which she had effected her es- 
cape. Madame Elisabeth, having received clothes 
through the care of some faithful attendants, imme- 
diately gave one of her gowns to Pauline; but, of 
course, what had been made for her own rather fully 
developed figure could not fit a very young and slen- 
der girl. The gown had to be taken to pieces and 
remade ; the Queen, with Madame Elisabeth and the 
young Madame Eoyale, worked assiduously to get it 
ready; but before it was finished the attendants were 
removed, and only one valet de chambre was allowed 
to remain. 

One of the cooks belonging to the former royal 
kitchen, a man named Meunier, with one of his assist- 
ants called Turgy, had contrived to get appointed to 
the same functions in the Temple by carefully con- 
cealing their real feelings and acting a "patriotic" 
part. Meunier remained to the last; consequently 
the food was carefully prepared, and, especially at 



266 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

first, extremely good, till restrictions were exacted. 
The royal party dined in a room below the Queen's 
bedchamber. After dinner, at about five o'clock, they 
went into the garden to give air and exercise to the 
youngpeople, of course followed by guards and treated 
with contumely, which they did not seem to notice. 

Next to the dining-room was a fairly good library, 
which was a great comfort to the King especially. 
For several days they were thus comparatively quiet ; 
but on the night between the 18th and 19th of August 
they were roused at twelve o'clock, while Madame de 
Lamballe and Madame and Mademoiselle de Tourzel 
were arrested with all the other attendants. The 
Queen and Madame Elisabeth rose hastily and 
dressed quickly, while the latter assisted Pauline in 
getting ready. The Queen tried in vain to retain 
Madame de Lamballe, pleading that she was a mem- 
ber of the family. But all were removed together, 
to the intense grief of the Queen and Madame Elisa- 
beth, who embraced them with tears. They were 
never again to see the Princesse de Lamballe ! 

The three principal ladies were taken to the prison 
of La Force, where in a few days they received a 
box from the Queen, — who sent word that she had 
packed it herself, — containing divers necessaries, 
the before mentioned gown given by Madame Elisa- 
beth, and half a large piece of English flannel,^ 
which the Queen "hoped might be a comfort." 

1 Probably sent to the Queen by Lady Sutherland, English manu- 
factures being forbidden. 



PEIVATIONS AND ANXIETIES 267 

" Even in her own most dire necessities she never 
forgot what might be useful or agreeable to others," 
says Madame de Tourzel on this occasion. 

The royal party suffered greatly from anxiety in 
regard to the fate of those who had been taken from 
them. " None of us slept on the night of the separa- 
tion," writes Madame Royale.^ The mere privation 
of attendance mattered little; the Queen took the 
little Dauphin into her room and dressed him herself. 
Having asked Clery, the valet attached to the King's 
person, whether he could dress her hair, she accepted 
his services on his affirmative reply, and while en- 
gaged in this daily task, he was often able to give 
her information which she wished to have, Madame 
Elisabeth meanwhile taking care to converse with 
the guard to divert his attention. 

After the Queen had dressed the Dauphin, she 
made him kneel to say his prayers, with a particular 
remembrance for Madame de Tourzel and Madame 
de Lamballe. A woman called Tison, with her hus- 
band, had been appointed nominally to help in the 
menial work, but more particularly to play the part 
of spy on the royal family; the Queen did not ac- 
cept their services personally, either for herself or 
her son. 

The King rose at seven, and when dressed went 
into the turret adjoining his bedchamber while the 
latter was being put in order, and remained engaged 

i"E6cit des 6v4nemeiits arrives an Temple," par la Duchesse 
d'Angouleme. 



268 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

in prayer and religious reading till nine. The Queen, 
who rose earlier than the King, began the day with 
her religious duties ; she then dressed the Dauphin, 
and was ready herself by eight o'clock. At nine all 
joined the King for breakfast ; but the happiness of 
meeting after the short separation of the night was 
much alloyed by the constant presence of a muni- 
cipal guard, who never left them alone, and was re- 
lieved every hour. After breakfast the Dauphin took 
lessons with his father, and Madame Royale with 
her mother. There was an old harpsichord which 
enabled them to continue the study of music ; and 
an attentive royalist had sent drawings of heads 
for the young Princess to copy. The library provided 
books for historical reading. The King delighted to 
have books, read what were at his disposal, but more 
particularly the reign of Charles I, in Hume's " His- 
tory of England." 

The lessons lasted till eleven; the children then 
played together in the anteroom with Clery; often 
Madame Elisabeth took advantage of the noise of 
battledore and shuttlecock, etc., to exchange a few 
words with him in a half whisper, and to hear what 
news he had to give them. 

At noon the Queen, in accordance with old habit, 
changed her morning-dress of white dimity, with a 
plain lawn cap, for another of linen spotted with 
small flowers on a brown ground. 

To effect the change she passed into Madame 
Elisabeth's room. The royal party then went into 



DAILY LIFE OF THE EOYAL FAMILY 269 

the garden, where in a shady walk under horse-chest- 
nut trees the children played at ball, etc., with Clery. 
The necessity of air and exercise for their health 
induced the King and Queen to submit patiently to 
the multiplied insults of the guards, who smoked 
in their faces, uttered brutal jests, drew offensive 
caricatures on the wall, and sang revolutionary 
songs. Sometimes there were sympathetic signals 
or significant songs from the neighboring houses; 
but a high wall was being built as quickly as possi- 
ble to prevent such demonstrations. These walks 
in the garden were the most trying time of the day, 
and were endured only for the sake of the children. 
In the interior of the tower some more humane 
guards left them in comparative peace. The Queen, 
although not entirely spared, yet commanded some 
degree of respect which was not granted to the 
King, whose homely manners and appearance were 
entirely devoid of that prestige which is so ne- 
cessary to those in a position of authority. The 
majestic air, the grave reserve, and the gentle 
sweetness shown by the Queen impressed the guards 
with a sort of awe, increased when any offense 
lighted up her flashing eye, or directed the truly 
royal glance which they could not meet unabashed. 
Some even felt the influence of the attraction which 
was so marked a feature in any personal intercourse 
with Marie- Antoinette. 

At two o'clock the royal family returned to the 
tower for their dinner, where everything was mi- 



270 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

nutely examined, to prevent the possibility of any 
correspondence being introduced, before they were 
allowed to partake of the food. 

The Queen ate little, but very slowly, to give the 
King time to satisfy his hearty appetite, which was 
a subject of derision for the guards. The food was 
good and abundant. The King drank wine mixed 
with water, and took a small glass of liqueur after 
dinner; the princesses drank only water, and after 
some difficulty had obtained that of the Ville 
d'Avray fountain, to which they were accustomed. 
Their former servants, now employed in the Temple 
kitchen, did all in their power to procure them what 
they wished. 

After dinner the Queen played with the King at 
backgammon or piquet, and seized the opportunity 
of thus saying a few words under cover of the game. 
When it was finished the King dozed in his chair 
for a short time ; the children respected the respite 
from care brought by this friendly slumber, and 
every one remained silent and quiet. The Queen 
often dropped her tapestry-work on her knees, and 
gazed at the sleeper with a particularly sad expres- 
sion. When he woke occupations were resumed : 
studies for the young people, books and needlework 
for the others. 

In the evening all gathered round a table while 
the Queen read aloud. The little Dauphin took his 
supper separately, and was put to bed, the Queen 
hearing him say his prayers, and undressing him 



DAILY LIFE OF THE ROYAL FAMILY 271 

herself. At nine the general supper was served; 
the Queen and Madame Elisabeth remained with 
the Dauphin on alternate evenings during that time, 
Clery bringing what was required to the watcher of 
the evening. 

The King retired early ; before leaving the room 
he took his wife's hand in his, and held it for a 
moment without any other demonstration. The 
Queen, glad to shorten her sleepless nights as far 
as possible, remained with Madame Elisabeth, who 
often read to her from some devotional book, or 
assisted her in mending the clothes of the King and 
the Dauphin. 

The life which they thus led seemed to bring re- 
lief after the horrible scenes which they had wit- 
nessed and the royal party were resigned : the more 
so as they indulged in delusive hopes of deliverance 
through the invasion of France by the allied powers. 
Their blindness was extraordinary, for mere com- 
mon sense would seem to indicate that, as hostages 
in the hands of an infuriated people, the progress of 
the invaders, with whom their name was connected, 
could only increase their own danger. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

Horrible death of the Priucesse de Lamballe — Ferocity of the 
mob — Savage incident at the Temple tower — Effect on the 
Queen — The King removed to the large tower — Distress of 
the Queen — Removal of the whole royal family to the large 
tower — The King's trial announced — Separation from his 
family. 



THE comparative quiet which the prisoners en- 
joyed was, however, not to be of long duration. 
Bad news came to Paris. The French were repulsed, 
the invaders were advancing, Longwy was taken, 
Verdun about to surrender. The whole population 
seemed then to become a prey to a sort of frenzy. 

The prisons, churches, convents, hospitals, and 
also the private dwellings of those suspected of 
royalist or religious sympathy, were broken open, 
and a general massacre began, with details of in- 
credible ferocity. Not only did the so-called govern- 
ment attempt no repression, but the murderers were 
actually rewarded for their patriotism ! 

The King and royal family, although subjected to 
the threats of some of the municipal guards, had 
but imperfect information of what was going on, 
and spent the night between the 2d and 3d of 

272 




MARIE-THERESE-LOUISE DE SAVOIE-CARIGNAN 
PRINCESSE DE LAMBALLE. 

ENGRAVED BY PETER AITKEN FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT & CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTING 
BY LOUIS-EDOUARD RIOULT, !N MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES 



DEATH OF THE PRINCESSE DE LAMBALLE 273 

September in great anxiety, but of an undefined 
kind, without imagining tbe shock in store for them. 
The Queen had anxiously asked Manuel, a member 
of the Commune, for news of Madame de Lamballe ; 
he had evasively answered that she was safe at the 
Hotel de La Force, but without saying that he 
alluded to the prison of that name, thus leaving 
the hope to the Queen that it was the private house 
of the " de La Force " family. 

On September 3 there was a great noise in the 
streets about the Temple, and the municipal guards 
would not allow the habitual recreation in the 
garden. 

The dinner took place as usual, and the Queen was 
about to begin the customary game of cards or back- 
gammon with the King, when a terrific noise was 
heard under the window, and the Queen seemed to 
hear her own name, with that of Lamballe. She 
started up, and stood terrified and motionless, as 
Clery came in pale as death. 

" Why are you not at dinner ? " asked the Queen, 
in breathless anxiety. 

"Madame, I am not well," answered Clery, who, 
alas ! had seen the head of the Princesse de Lamballe 
carried on a pike, and had hastened up-stairs to warn 
the King. 

The face of the unfortunate Princess had been 
rouged, and her hair frizzed and powdered, by a 
wretched hair-dresser, who nearly died with the 
horror of his ghastly task, inflicted by the populace, 



274 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

" that Antoinette might recognize her friend " ! The 
long, fair hair of the victim fell in curls round the pike. 

The municipal guards near the Queen were speak- 
ing together, with much agitation, in low whispers. 

" What is the matter ? " asked the King. 

"You had better go to the window," said one of 
the guards. 

The King moved as if about to do so, when 
another guard threw himseK before him, saying in 
imploring tones; 

" No ! no ! For mercy's sake, do not go ! do not 
show yourself!" 

" But what is all this ? " said the King. 

" Well, if you want to know," said a young officer, 
with coarse brutality, " it is the head of the Lamballe 
that they wish to show you. If you don't want the 
people to come up here, you had better go to the 
window." 

The Queen stood with fixed gaze, without uttering 
a sound, as if she had been turned into stone. 
Madame Elisabeth flew to her, and drew her into a 
chair, while her children knelt by her side weeping, 
and striving to rouse her. At length a flood of tears 
brought relief to the alarming stupor which had 
seemed to annihilate her senses. 

The King then turned to the brutal officer who 
had caused the fearful shock. 

"We are prepared for everything, monsieur; but 
you might have spared the Queen the knowledge of 
this frightful calamity." 



FEEOCITY OF THE MOB 275 

The unfortunate Princess, who was at the La Force 
prison with Madame and Mademoiselle de Tourzel, 
had been massacred in the courtyard of the prison 
by the mob, who literally cut her corpse to pieces, 
with details of savage brutality impossible to relate, 
and beyond what imagination could conceive. The 
head was cut off, placed on a pike, and carried 
in triumph through the streets to the Temple, for 
the purpose of being shown to the Queen because 
she was her friend! 

Madame and Mademoiselle de Tourzel escaped after 
many dramatic incidents, the coolness and courage 
shown by the young girl having interested a mem- 
ber of the Commune more humane than the others. 

Until the shock of the dreadful death of Madame 
de Lamballe the Queen had preserved her habitual 
energy, and even cheerfulness, not only uttering no 
complaint, but trying to encourage all around her. 
After that event she lived in a state of terror, not 
for herself, but for those she loved. She had seen 
what unlimited ferocity might be expected from the 
populace, and had learned that the walls of a prison 
did not suffice as a protection. Daily the crowd 
assembled under the windows of the Temple, de- 
manding with loud cries the heads of Louis and 
Antoinette ! Had the danger menaced only herself, 
she would have steadily faced assassins, as she had 
done before ; but the horrors of a general massacre, 
in which her husband and children might perish 
before her eyes, were too much even for her for- 



276 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

titude ; and when, on September 29, the delegates of 
the Commune came to read the decree by which 
" Louis Capet," as he was now called, was to be at 
once removed to the large tower, where his dwelling 
was ready for him, leaving the rest of the family 
in their present abode, the Queen fell into a state of 
absolute despair, being convinced that he was being 
taken away to be murdered there. 

She spent the whole night in tears and sobs; in 
the morning she refused all food, and implored the 
municipal guards, with such passionate entreaties, 
for permission to see the King, if only at meals, that 
finally this last favor was granted, with a promise 
that they should all be transferred to the great 
tower as soon as the rooms could be made ready. 

They met meanwhile, but only at meals, and in- 
variably subjected to the inspection of the guards, 
who never left them. Madame Elisabeth, having 
said a few words to her brother in English, was 
peremptorily informed that she must not use a for- 
eign language. On October 26 they were trans- 
ferred to the great tower, where the King lodged on 
the second floor with Clery and the Dauphin, who 
was thus taken from his mother at night — a great 
sacrifice for Marie-Antoinette, but to which she 
was resigned, hoping that it might procure comfort 
to the King. 

Her own bedchamber and that of Madame Elisa- 
beth were on the third floor, and Madame Royale 
slept on a small bed near her mother. The rooms. 



REMOVAL TO THE LARGE TOWER 277 

though barely furnished, contained what was strictly- 
necessary, and the Queen had a fairly good bed. 
Near them, on pretense of service, but literally as 
a constant watch kept over them, were Tison and 
his wife, already mentioned, who had filled the 
same office in the smaller tower, and now followed 
them to their new abode. But, far more than be- 
fore, everything here revealed a prison, with its 
hoodwinked windows, iron bars, and iron-bound 
doors, its formidable locks and massive keys. The 
rooms were dark and gloomy, without any look-out, 
and even the bright little Dauphin seemed depressed 
and sad. 

The prisoners had vainly asked for divine service 
at least on Sundays and festivals. It was refused, 
but the King read the prayers and gospels of the 
day with the royal family. Their daily life was con- 
tinued as before described, but no kind of annoyance 
was spared them by the so-called government. A 
first decree took from them pens, ink, paper, and 
pencils; a second, all penknives or sharp instruments, 
even to their toilet implements and those used for 
their needlework. 

One day Louis XVI stood mournfully watching 
Madame Elisabeth, who was mending his coat, and 
biting off the thread with her teeth, her scissors hav- 
ing been taken away. 

" You wanted for nothing in your pretty house at 
Montreuil ! " 

"Oh, my brother," she earnestly replied, "how 



278 THE STORY OP MARIE-AJSrTOINETTE 

coiild I think of myself when I remember and share 
your misfortunes ! " 

At this time the King was thirty-eight years of 
age; the Queen completed her thirty-seventh year 
on the 2d of November; Madame Elisabeth was 
twenty-eight, Madame Eoyale nearly fourteen, and 
the Dauphin was seven years old. 

The festive time of Christmas and the New Year 
brought only fresh sorrows to the prisoners. On the 
6th of December Clery heard that the King's trial 
was about to take place, and that during its course 
he would be separated from the Queen and the rest 
of his family. Clery had the painful duty of prepar- 
ing the King for this new ordeal, and performed it 
as gently as he could while undressing his master, 
who had only four days before him to concert with 
the Queen some means of correspondence. On the 
11th of December there was a great noise in the 
streets of Paris. The drums beat the call to arms, 
and troops came into the garden of the Temple, to the 
great alarm of the prisoners. 

The royal family breakfasted together as usual, 
but the vigilance of the guards was so acute that 
they were utterly unable to exchange even a word in 
private. What the torture of this incessant super- 
vision must have been may be imagined. After 
breakfast the King went down-stairs with his son for 
his usual lessons; but at eleven o'clock two muni- 
cipal guards came to take away the Dauphin, who 
was to go to his mother. They vouchsafed no 



THE KINGPS TRIAL ANNOUNCED 279 

explanation to the King, who remained in great 
anxiety as to the meaning of this new decision. 

At one o'clock came a deputation from the Na- 
tional Convention, who read to the King a decree 
ordering that " Louis Capet " should be brought to 
the bar of the National Convention. The King re- 
plied that his name was not " Capet," which belonged 
to one of his ancestors,^ and that in following them 
he yielded to force, and not to their orders. 

When the Queen knew that the King was gone 
her alarm may be imagined. "We were all," says 
Madame Royale, "in a state of anxiety which it is 
impossible to describe. My mother had tried every 
means of learning what was going on through the 
municipal guards; it was the first time that she 
condescended to question them." After the melan- 
choly dinner, Clery contrived to follow Madame 
Elisabeth, and to warn her that during the trial the 
King would not be allowed to see his family. He 
tried to encourage the Princess to hope that the King 
would be sent into exile. Madame Elisabeth replied : 
" I have no hope that the King may be saved ! " At 
six o'clock Clery was summoned to receive the in- 
formation that he would no longer be allowed com- 
munication with the princesses and the Dauphin, as 
he was to remain with Louis XVI. 

At half-past six the King returned, and earnestly 
requested to be allowed to see his family, but in vain. 
Henceforward the royal prisoner remained alone. 

1 Hugh Capet, King of France from 987 to 996. 



280 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

The Dauphin was with the Queen. " My brother," 
says Madame Roy ale, " spent the night with her. As 
he had no bed, she gave him her own, and sat up all 
night so absorbed in grief that my aunt and myself 
would not leave her." 

In vain Marie-Antoinette, when morning came, 
entreated to be allowed to see her husband. She 
was never to see him again in this world save once — 
on the eve of his execution ! 



CHAPTER XIX 

The King's trial — Malesherbes a faithful friend — A sad 
Christmas — How the royal family corresponded with the 
King — The New Year — The King's sentence — His last 
requests — A reprieve of three days refused — Farewell in- 
terview with his family — The Abbe Edgeworth de Firmont. 



THE King was told that he might choose counsel 
for his defense, and the now aged Malesherbes, 
who had been minister many years before, offered his 
faithful services to the King in his adversity. He 
was assisted by Tronchet and de Seze, whose names 
deserve to be recalled, for the honor that they ac- 
cepted was one which implied the probable sacrifice 
of their lives/ 

When the King saw Malesherbes, he went quickly 
to meet him, and embraced him warmly, while the 
old man burst into bitter tears on seeing the condi- 
tion of his master, who, perhaps, would not have 
met with such a lamentable fate if Malesherbes and 
Turgot had been allowed to carry out the wise and 
prudent measures which might have prevented so 
much evil. 

Meanwhile Marie-Antoinette could not be com- 

1 Malesherbes died on the scaffold, with several members of his 
family. The other advocates survived the Revolution. 

281 



282 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

forted for the separation from the King, which she 
had so much dreaded, and to which she must now 
submit. She remained in a sort of mute despair, 
hardly speaking even to her children, on whom she 
gazed with an expression of grief which deeply af- 
fected them, young as they were. She tried inces- 
santly to procure some information from the guards, 
who answered with great caution; some, neverthe- 
less, showed compassion, and endeavored to en- 
courage her to hope. 

In the midst of all this moral torture came Christ- 
mas day, without even the possibility of prayer in 
a place of religious worship. They read the service 
of the day, but this was a poor substitute. 

The King chose this solemn Christian festival to 
express his last wishes to his wife and family, and 
his justification as a farewell to his people. We 
will give only a short extract from this remarkable 
document: "I entreat my wife to forgive me all 
that she has to suffer for my sake, and whatever 
sorrow I may have caused her during the years 
of our marriage, as she may rest assured that I 
retain no remembrance of anything for which she 
might be inclined to feel self-reproach. I charge 
my son, in case that he should ever have the mis- 
fortune of being a king, to remember that he must 
be entirely devoted to the happiness of his fellow- 
citizens, that he must forget all rancor or hatred, 
more especially with regard to the misfortunes and 
sorrows to which I am subjected." 



THE NEW YEAR 283 

The truly Christian feelings of the King are . 
sufficiently proved by the above extract from the 
paper which was addressed to the Queen, but not 
given to her. 

On January 1 poor Clery drew near, and diffi- 
dently asked leave to express his wishes for the 
King's future happiness. The King kindly and 
sadly accepted them, sending messages to his fam- 
ily through a municipal guard. They had found 
means to communicate with him, assisted by Clery 
and Turgy, one of their former servants, who was 
employed in the kitchen, and who contrived to put 
stoppers of twisted white paper in the bottles and 
decanters taken up to them. With these fragments 
and a bit of pencil, carefully concealed, the Queen 
and Madame Elisabeth contrived to write a few 
words, covered over by thread, closely wound. An- 
other thread dropped the pieces of paper by the 
window down to that of the King, where Clery took 
them and fastened others, which were drawn up to 
the Queen's window. This was done at night, to 
escape the scrutiny of the guards. 

Turgot and Malesherbes came also to offer their 
hopeful good wishes on the occasion of the New 
Year ; but the King, with characteristic kindness, 
would not allow them to remain with him, reminding 
them that they had family claims which must not 
be neglected. "You especially, my dear Malesherbes, 
who have three generations behind you; I could 
not forgive myself if I took you away from them." 



284 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

One of the municipal guards, who had been con- 
quered by the King's patience and kindness, ad- 
dressed him, saying : " Sire, you have been King of 
the French, and you can still make me happy." 

" But I can do nothing for you," said the King. 

" Forgive me, Sire ; the least trifle having be- 
longed to you would be very precious to me." The 
King then gave him his gloves as a remembrance. 

The trial was over — all the eloquence of the 
King's advocates could not save his life ; a majority 
of only seven votes decided his fate, and thus 
" Louis Oapet " was sentenced to death ! 

Malesherbes, in deep distress, went to the Temple, 
and as Clery hastily came forward to meet him he 
told him that all was over and that the King was 
sentenced. As Malesherbes came into the King's 
presence the latter said to him : " For the last two 
hours I have been examining my conscience and 
seeking whether, during the course of my reign, I 
have voluntarily given my subjects any just cause 
for complaint against me. Well, I can declare in all 
the sincerity of my soul, as a man about to appear 
before God, that I have constantly striven for the 
happiness of my people, and that I have not indulged 
in a single wish contrary to it." 

This was too much for Malesherbes, who fell on 
his knees, sobbing so as to be unable to speak. The 
King tried to comfort him, saying that he had ex- 
pected what such grief announced, and that it was 
better to know his fate. 



THE KINGTS SENTENCE 285 

The three counsel urged him to try an appeal to the 
nation; he consented reluctantly, being convinced 
that it would be useless. De Seze and Tronchet 
then retired, but the King detained Malesherbes, who 
was still overcome with grief. " My friend, do not 
weep," he said, pressing his hand. " We shall meet 
again in a better world. I am grieved to leave such 
a friend as you are." The King followed him to the 
door with another "Adieu!" They met no more, 
although Malesherbes came again and again to the 
prison entreating for admittance, which was refused 
to the last. 

The King then took up the " History of England" 
and read assiduously the trial and death of Charles 
I. The King's appeal to the nation was rejected 
through a motion of Eobespierre, and on the 20th 
of January a deputation from the National Con- 
vention came to read the sentence, which was to be 
carried out within twenty-four hours. Louis XVI 
listened with perfect calmness, and then gave into 
the hands of the members a letter addressed to the 
Convention, in which he asked a reprieve of three 
days to prepare for death ; the assistance of a priest 
of his own faith, with a guarantee that this priest 
should incur no danger by his ministrations ; permis- 
sion to see his family without witnesses; and the 
assurance that after his death the survivors would 
be left free to go where they pleased. He also re- 
called the claims of his former servants, creditors, 
and others. 



286 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

The so-called Minister of Justice having under- 
taken to deliver this letter to the Board of the Na- 
tional Convention, the King gave the name of the 
Abbe Edgeworth de Firmont as that of the priest 
whom he wished to see. The deputation then retired, 
and the King's dinner was brought as usual. 

With perfect self-possession Louis XVI sat down 
to his meal. "I have no knife," he remarked. He 
was then told that he was not to be allowed the use 
of a knife or a fork, and that his food was to be cut 
up by Clery in the presence of the two guards, who 
would then remove the knife. The King showed 
some indignation at the implied supposition that he 
could be " so cowardly " as to have the intention of 
putting an end to his own life; and then merely 
breaking off a piece of bread, he detached with a 
spoon a few mouthfuls of boiled beef, which he 
took, but would not allow his food to be cut up, 
and did not partake of anything else. The meal 
was over in a few minutes. 

At six o'clock the Minister of Justice returned to 
the Temple, and announced that the King would be 
allowed to have any priest that he preferred, and to 
see his family freely and alone ; that the Convention 
had not taken into consideration his request for a 
reprieve of three days; that the nation, "always 
great and just," would settle what concerned his 
family, and give proper satisfaction to his creditors. 
To this the King made no reply. 

The guards then asked the minister privately how 



FAREWELL INTERVIEW WITH HIS FAMILY 287 

they were to reconcile the permission given to the 
King to see his family alone, and the orders of the 
Convention that the guards were not to lose sight of 
him by day or by night. It was then settled that the 
King should receive his family in the dining-room, 
where the door would be shut, but where they could 
be watched through its glass panes. 

The King then asked for the Abbe Edgeworth, 
who was down-stairs and came up immediately. 
When he saw the King he was deeply affected, and 
threw himself at his feet without being able to utter 
a word. The King was greatly moved at the sight 
of a faithful subject, and then took the Abbe into 
the turret, where they were allowed to be alone and 
remained long in earnest conversation. At eight 
o'clock the King came out of the turret, and desired 
that his family should be summoned ; then with Clery 
he went into the dining-room, where Clery pushed 
the table into a corner, to give more room, and 
placed chairs in readiness. The King, ever thought- 
ful and considerate in what concerned the Queen, 
then desired Clery to bring a decanter of water and 
a glass, in case of need. Clery brought iced water, 
but the King immediately said that it might make 
the Queen ill, and asked for water without ice. 

The Queen, holding the little Dauphin by the hand, 
came in first, followed by Madame Elisabeth with 
Madame Royale. All had learned the dreadful truth 
through the cries of the news-venders under their 
windows! With floods of tears the Queen threw 



288 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

herself into the King's arms, and then attempted to 
draw him into his bedchamber; but he explained 
that he could receive them all only in the dining- 
room, where the guards could watch them through 
the glass door. Clery closed it, and they could at 
least speak without being heard. The King sat 
down; the Queen took her place at his left, with 
Madame Elisabeth on the other side; the children 
were before him. All clung to him, and for some 
time only a burst of grief was manifest. At last the 
King spoke. 

" He wept for us," — says Madame Royale, in her 
narrative, — " but not through fear of death ; he re- 
lated his trial to my mother, excusing the wretches 
who were about to put him to death. . . . He then 
addressed religious exhortations to my brother ; he 
especially commanded him to forgive those who 
were the cause of his death, and gave him his bless- 
ing, as also to me." 

The child was seen to raise his hand solemnly, 
the King having required him to take an oath that 
he would never seek to avenge his death. 

During the last hours of his life, Louis XVI 
seemed transfigured. His quiet and calm firmness, 
his truly Christian feelings of forgiveness toward 
his enemies, his faith, his resignation, are described 
with blended wonder and admiration by all who 
came near him. 

The interview, so harrowing to all, had lasted 
nearly two hours, when, at a quarter past ten, the 



^^^ mm^w^^(mw^m^;sii f :^^^ 




LOUIS XVI. 



FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT & CO. N. Y., OF THE PAINT(NG BY ANTOINE-FRANCOiS CALLET, 
IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. 



FAEEWELL INTERVIEW WITH HIS FAMILY 289 

King rose decidedly, signifying to the weeping wo- 
men and children that they must leave him to pre- 
pare for coming death. The Queen entreated to be 
allowed to spend the night near him, but he firmly 
refused, saying that he must be alone and calm. 

" I will see you to-morrow morning,^' he said. 

" You promise this ? " cried the Queen. 

" Yes, I promise ; I will see you at eight o'clock." 

" Why not at seven I " cried the Queen, anxiously. 

" Well, then, at seven ; but now adieu ! " 

The word was uttered with such intense pathos 
that a fresh burst of grief followed, and Madame 
Royale fainted at her father's feet. Clery flew to 
raise her, assisted by Madame Elisabeth. The King 
repeated, " Adieu ! Adieu ! " and broke away, taking 
refuge in his own bedchamber. The princesses, still 
sobbing violently, went upstairs. Clery tried to fol- 
low, and to assist in taking up the still unconscious 
Madame Royale; but the guards forced him to desist. 

The King, as soon as he had recovered sufficient 
self-command, returned to the Abbe Edgeworth, 
with whom he remained in spiritual converse till 
midnight. The Abbe had obtained permission to 
say mass on the following morning in the King's 
bedchamber, and had procured what was necessary 
from a neighboring church. But he was warned 
that all must be over by seven o'clock, because 
" Louis would be taken to execution at eight." 

The King then went to bed, and fell into the 
deep sleep of physical exhaustion. 



CHAPTEE XX 

The King prepares for death — His kindness to the last — He 
hears mass and receives communion — The Abbe Edgeworth 
persuades him to give up the last interview with the Queen 
and royal family — He bids farewell to Clery — His last words 
to the porter of the prison — A fruitless attempt to save him 
on his way to the scaffold — He prepares for his execution — 
His address to the people — His death. 



AT five o'clock in the morning the King was 
. awakened by Clery, who was lighting the fire, 
and he immediately asked for the Abbe Edgeworth. 
Clery replied that he was lying on his bed ; and the 
King, thoughtful for others to the last, then asked 
quickly where he had slept himself. When Clery 
answered, "On that chair. Sire," his ever-kind 
master exclaimed, " I am sorry ! " He then de- 
sired Clery to summon the Abbe, and going with 
him into the turret, they remained in converse for 
an hour, while Clery prepared what was necessary 
for the mass. 

With the same perfect calmness which he had 
shown throughout, the King asked Clery if he could 
serve the mass ; he replied in the affirmative, but said 
that he did not know the responses by heart. The 
King took a missal, looked out the places, and gave 



THE KING- HEAES MASS AND RECEIVES COMMUNION 291 

it to his faithful valet, taking another for himself. 
Then, kneeling devoutly, he heard the mass and 
received communion. When the Abbe retired to 
remove his vestments after mass, the King affec- 
tionately took leave of poor Clery, who was heart- 
broken, and thanked him for his faithful service. 

A great deal of noise was now heard round the 
prison, and cavalry regiments were coming into the 
court-yard. The King said quietly: "They are prob- 
ably assembling the National Guards. The time is 
drawing near." He then saw that it was seven 
o'clock, and spoke of summoning the Queen and 
royal family, according to his promise; but the 
Abbe earnestly dissuaded him on the ground of the 
harrowing nature of such an interview at such a 
time. The King hesitated for a moment, and then 
said with resignation that he felt it would be too 
distressing for the Queen, and that it was better to 
be deprived himself of this last comfort, so as to 
leave her a few minutes more of delusive hope. He 
then summoned Clery and gave into his hands a 
small packet for the Queen, containing a seal for 
the Dauphin, and his wedding-ring,^ with the hair 
of different members of the royal family. " Tell her 
that I do not part with the ring without pain. Tell 
the Queen, tell my dear children, tell my sister, that 
although I had promised to see them this morning, 
I have wished to spare them the sorrow of such a 
separation. It is a great sacrifice for me to go with- 

1 In France men also have wedding-rings. 



292 THE STOEY OF MARLE-ANTOINETTE 

out embracing tliem once more! I charge you to 
give them my last farewell." 

One of the guards came up to the King. "You 
have asked for scissors ; we must know with what 
intention.'^ 

" I wish Clery to cut my hair." 

After deliberation the request was refused ! 

At nine o'clock the door opened noisily, and 
Santerre came in, followed by ten gendarmes, who 
stood in two lines. 

" You have come to fetch me ? " said the King. 

" Yes," answered Santerre. 

" In one minute I will follow you." He then went 
into the turret, knelt before the priest, and asked for 
his blessing, and his prayers that divine support 
might be granted to the end. 

Louis XVI then left the turret, and came toward 
the guards, who filled the room. Addressing one of 
these, he held a folded paper, which he requested that 
he would give to the Queen — "to my wife," he 
quickly added, correcting the expression. 

" That is no concern of mine," said the man 
brutally ; " I am here to take you to the scaffold." 

The King turned to another : " I beg that you will 
give this paper to my wife. You may read it ; there 
are some wishes expressed, which I should be glad 
that the Commune should know." 

The man took the paper — but the Queen never 
received it. The King then asked Clery for his 
hat, and spoke of his faithful servant, requesting 



THE KINGTS LAST WOEDS TO THE POETER 293 

that his watch should be given to him, and that 
henceforward he should serve " the Queen — my 
wife." 

No answer was made. The King ^ then said firmly, 
addressing Santerre, "Let us go." The Abbe fol- 
lowed him as he went down-stairs. On meeting the 
porter of the prison, the King said : " I spoke to you 
sharply the other day ; do not bear me ill-will." 

The man made no reply, and looked away. The 
King crossed the first courtyard of the prison on 
foot, and turned twice to look up at the closed 
windows where wooden shutters prevented him 
from seeing those he loved. In the second court- 
yard was a hackney-coach, near which stood two 
gendarmes. The King and his confessor took the 
two seats facing the horses, the gendarmes took the 
seats opposite, and the coach immediately drove off. 

It was a dark, misty January morning. The pres- 
ence of the two soldiers precluded the possibility of 
conversation; the priest therefore handed his brevi- 
ary to the King, and pointed out appropriate psalms, 
which the King read devoutly and with perfect 
calmness, to the evident astonishment of the gen- 
darmes. The shops were shut along the way, and 
crowds of armed citizens stood on the pavement 
as the coach, preceded and followed by cavalry and 
artillery, went slowly through the streets, where all 
the windows were closed. Lines of troops stood on 

iNo mention is made of any food taken by the King, or even offered 
to him ; he seems to have gone to the scaffold fasting. 

19* 



294 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

each side, while drums beat solemnly, as if for a 
military funeral. 

As the coach passed along the Boulevards near 
the Porte St. Denis, a few young men rushed for- 
ward, waving swords and crying loudly : " Come, all 
who would save the King ! " There was no re- 
sponse, and they were obliged to fly for their own 
lives. 

They were pursued, and several were arrested, 
with fatal consequences. The King, absorbed in 
prayer and religious meditation, had not even per- 
ceived the vain attempt to effect his deliverance. 

The coach had at last reached the Rue Royale 
and the Place de la Revolution,^ where the crowd 
was immense. The scaffold was a little to the 
left of the site where the Obelisk now stands, but 
nearer the Champs Elysees, toward which the guillo- 
tine was turned.^ 

A mass of troops formed a square around the 
fatal spot. The coach stopped at a distance of a 
few paces. The King, feeling that the motion had 
ceased, looked up from his prayer-book, saying 
quietly: "We have reached the place, I think." 

One of the executioner's assistants opened the door. 



1 Now the Place de la Concorde, board then turns (?o tow, bringing Mm 

2 As the mechanism of the guil- to a horizontal position, with the 
lotine may not be understood by neckinahalf-hoopof wood, of which 
the reader, a few words of expla- the remaining half comes down to 
nation seem necessary. The con- meet the other, securing the head, 
demned stands before an upright The knife then falls mechanically 
board hinged between two posts, ontheneck. The whole is managed 
To this he is securely bound ; the with extreme rapidity. 



THE KING PREPAEES FOR HIS EXECUTION 295 

The King earnestly commended the priest who ac- 
companied him to the care of the gendarmes, and 
then stepped from the coach. 

Three men surrounded him and tried to take off 
his coat. He calmly pushed them back and removed 
it himself, opening his shirt-collar and preparing it 
for the knife. The executioners, who seemed at first 
disconcerted and almost awed, then again came 
around him, holding a rope. 

The King drew back quickly, exclaiming : " What 
do you want to do ? " 

" To tie your hands." 

The King exclaimed indignantly: "Tie my hands ! 
No, I will not submit to this. Do your duty, but do 
not attempt to bind me; you shall not do it !" 

The executioners persisted, and spoke loudly. The 
King looked toward the Abbe Edgeworth, who at 
once saw the impossibility of resistance, and said 
gently : " Sire, this last insult will only provide a 
fresh point of resemblance between your Majesty 
and the Grod who will be your recompense." 

The King looked up to heaven. " Assuredly, His 
example alone could induce me to submit to such an 
indignity." Then holding out his hands: "Do as you 
please ; I will drink the cup to the dregs." 

His hands were tied, and with the assistance of 
his confessor he ascended the steps of the scaffold, 
which were very steep. When he reached, the top he 
broke away from the Abbe, walked firmly across the 
scaffold, silenced the drums by a glance of authority. 



296 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

and then in a voice so loud that it was audible on 
the opposite side of the Place de la Eevolution, he 
uttered these words : 

"I die innocent of all the crimes imputed to me. 
I forgive those who have caused my death, and I 
pray Grod that the blood you are about to shed may 
never fall on France." 

There was a shudder that ran through the crowd 
like a great wave; but, at the word of command, 
the drums beat a prolonged roll, and the voice 
could no longer be heard. The King, seeing that 
all further address to the crowd would be fruitless, 
turned to the guillotine and calmly took his place 
on the fatal plank, to which he was fastened. The 
apparatus turned over, and the knife fell.^ It was 
then a quarter past ten o'clock a. m. on the 21st of 
January, 1793. The executioner held up the severed 
head, turning as he did so to the four sides of the 
Place. 

The King of France was dead. 

" Le roi est mort ! " But no one dared to cry the 
traditional response : 

"Vive le roi!" 

"Le roi!" The heir to the once glorious title was 
now a poor little child, weeping bitterly, in a prison, 
by the side of his widowed mother. 

1 To my regret, I have foimd no mention in the narrative of the 
Abb6 Edgeworth, or of others, of the famous words attributed to him: 
"Son of St. Louis, ascend to heaven!" 



CHAPTER XXI 

Grief of the Queen — -She remains in the closest seclusion — The 
Dauphin is taken away from the Queen — Her desperate re- 
sistance — The Princesses left without attendance — They per- 
form menial work and wait on the Queen — She is removed to 
the Conciergerie prison — Madame Richard — Narrative of her 
servant, Rosalie Lamorhere — Arrival of the Queen — Her cell 
— The child of Madame Richard. 



THE unhappy Queen had spent the night lying 
on her bed, without undressing, incessantly 
" sobbing and shuddering with grief," says Madame 
Royale. The morning passed in the horrible ex- 
pectation of the coming sorrow, supposing every 
minute that the door was about to open for the 
summons to the last farewell. Seven o'clock — eight 
— nine, and still no message. They heard the noise 
of horses and troops, but still the mourners hoped 
for the last word, the last look. Then all was silent. 
They scarcely dared to acknowledge what they 
feared ; but after a period of agonized suspense they 
heard the public criers proclaim that all was over. 
The Queen then entreated to be allowed to see 
Clery, hoping to learn from him what had taken 
place, why she had not seen the King, what messages 

297 



298 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

Tie had left for her, for his children, for his sister. 
This was refused! 

One of the municipal guards, however, who was 
more humane and compassionate than the others, 
managed to see Clery, to gather all particulars from 
his lips, and to transmit them to the Queen, for 
whom he also procured newspapers, which the fam- 
ily were able to read secretly. 

The Queen was in a state of absolute prostration, 
from which she was roused, in some measure, by 
the serious illness of her daughter. " Happily," 
says the young Princess, with pathetic simplicity — 
" Jiappilp, I became so ill, that her thoughts were 
diverted from her grief in some measure." Mourn- 
ing attire had been granted at the earnest request of 
the bereaved family; but nothing could induce the 
Queen to go down-stairs into the garden; not even 
for the sake of her children's health, after the re- 
covery of the young Princess. To reach the garden, 
it was impossible to avoid passing before the door 
of the King's apartment, which was immediately un- 
der her own ; and this she could not endure. After 
several weeks of close seclusion, some of the kinder 
guards suggested that the royal family should go to 
the top of the tower, and take the air on a sort of 
circular walk, which existed between the conical sum- 
mit and the parapet bordering the roof. To this the 
Queen consented ; but she could never be persuaded 
to go down-stairs to the garden. Meanwhile, with 
the obstinate adherence to royalist traditions which 



SHE REMAINS IN THE CLOSEST SECLUSION 299 

at that time seemed a duty as sacred as that of a 
profession of religious faith, she treated her son, as 
King of France, with the etiquette which had been 
used by the royal family toward Louis XVI, even 
in the prison. This was more than imprudent, un- 
der the circumstances of her situation, which she 
would not or could not understand, still preserving 
her delusions, still convinced that they would all be 
delivered by the interference of the allied powers. 
She never dreamed of being subjected to a judicial 
trial, like the King ; the only possible danger seemed 
to be that of a massacre in the prison. 

Her royalist adherents, who foresaw more clearly 
what would probably be her fate, formed many plans 
for the escape of the Queen and royal family, with 
the connivance of some of the guards, who were won 
over either by real sympathy for the royal prisoners 
or by promises of a rich reward. But the spies placed 
near them — Tison and his wife — were on the watch, 
and perpetually gave warning of what they saw or 
suspected, causing all plans to fail, through some 
unforeseen complication, at the very time when suc- 
cess seemed within reach. These attempts only 
caused increased vexation to the prisoners, who were 
perpetually subjected to domiciliary visits, and were 
repeatedly searched, when everything that could be 
taken from them was carried away. 

The respect shown to the boy-King irritated those 
who governed at that time, and they were further 
exasperated by the insurrection which had broken out 



300 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

in La Vendee, where Louis XVII was styled king. 
Thenceforward the poor child's fate was sealed. 
On the night of July 3 of that miserable year, the 
guards appeared at ten o'clock bearing a decree by 
which it was ordered that " the son of Louis Capet " 
should be separated from his mother, and given into 
the hands of a " tutor," ^ who would be appointed by 
the Commune. 

The scene that followed is one of the most har- 
rowing recorded in history. The terrified child 
uttered loud cries and entreaties, clinging desper- 
ately to his mother, who knew only too well into 
what hands he was about to fall, and what would be 
his fate. She refused to give him up, and defended 
him with the strength of despair, telling them to kill 
her before taking her son from her. A whole hour 
passed thus — in desperate resistance on the part of 
Marie-Antoinette, in threats and violence on the 
part of the guards, in tears and supplications from 
Madame Elisabeth and Madame Eoyale. At last 
the guards declared so positively that they would 
kin both of her children, that the Queen, exhausted, 
ceased her resistance. Madame Elisabeth and Ma- 
dame Royale then took up the child from his little 
bed, and dressed him — for the Queen was powerless. 
When ready, she gave him herself, into the hands of 
the guards, with floods of tears, " foreseeing," says 
Madame Royale, "that she would never see him 

iThis so-called "tutor" was the cobbler Simon, by whom the poor 
little Prince was treated with the greatest cruelty. 



THE DAUPHIN IS TAKEN AWAY FEOM THE QUEEN 301 

again. The poor little fellow kissed us all very 
affectionately, and followed the guards, crying bit- 
terly." 

This blow was perhaps the hardest of all to bear 
for Marie- Antoinette. Her husband had been put 
to death, and the affliction was intensely bitter; 
yet he had died like a Christian hero, and she 
seemed to see him in heaven. But for a mother to 
know that .the dear, sweet child, so fondly loved, so 
carefully tended, was given over into the hands of 
brutes, from whom every kind of ill-usage must be 
expected, and who would destroy both body and 
soul — here was indeed the most dreadful of all sor- 
rows ! A child, from whom so much could be ex- 
pected, such an exceptionally amiable and affection- 
ate nature, so attractive in every respect, and such 
a treasure to the widowed mother ! 

After the poor little Dauphin was taken away, 
they were left to mourn in peace, " which was some 
comfort," says Madame Eoyale. The municipal 
guards now locked them up in their rooms, but did 
not remain with them. No one now did the house- 
work. Madame Elisabeth and Madame Eoyale 
made the beds, swept the rooms, and waited on the 
Queen. The guards came three times a day to bring 
food and to examine the bolts and the bars of the 
windows, lest anything should be disturbed. 

The prisoners were able to go up by an inner stair- 
case to the top of the tower, where the Queen spent 
hours looking through a crack in a wooden partition 



302 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

whicli now divided the walk in two parts, in the hope 
of seeing her son go by. Madame Elisabeth was 
informed by the guards of the ill-usage to which 
the poor child was subjected, " and which was be- 
yond imagination," says Madame Royale, "more 
especially because he cried at being separated from 
us." But Madame Elisabeth entreated the guards 
to keep all these particulars from the Queen, who 
was only too much enlightened, when she saw the 
child pass by, and watched his pale, sorrowful face. 

The last time that such miserable comfort was 
granted to her, was on July 30. She had watched 
long, and at last she saw him, cowed and terrified, 
bereft of his golden curls, wearing the red revolu- 
tionary cap, and, alas ! singing a song of coarse in- 
sult against herself ! She knew then, how the child 
must have suffered, before he could have been 
brought to this. 

On the 1st of August, one of those night visits of the 
guards which always brought woe to the prisoners 
aroused them, at two o'clock in the morning, to hear 
a decree by which Marie-Antoinette was to be re- 
moved to the Conciergerie prison. Her daughter 
and sister-in-law entreated to be allowed to follow 
her, but this was refused. The guards obliged her 
to dress in their presence, and then searched her 
pockets, taking possession of their contents, which 
consisted only of the hair of her husband and chil- 
dren, a multiplication table used by the Dauphin, 
with miniatures of Madame de Lamballe and two 



SHE IS EEMOVED TO THE CONCIERGERIE PRISON 303 

other princesses. They left her only a handkerchief 
and a smelling-bottle. 

The Queen did not utter a word till she embraced 
her daughter, whom she exhorted to keep up her 
courage, to take care of her aunt, and to be obedient 
to her as to another mother. She then threw herself 
in the arms of Madame Elisabeth, who whispered to 
her a few words; the Queen then quickly left the 
room, without daring to look back. 

The gloomy prison of the Conciergerie, on the 
quay bordering the Seine, was one of the most 
dreaded among the places where the victims of the 
Revolution were confined. It had, however, one 
redeeming point : the humanity shown to the pris- 
oners by Richard, the chief jailer, and his wife. 
The servant of the latter, named Rosalie Lamorliere, 
has left a minute account of the time spent there by 
the unfortunate Marie- Antoinette. 

On August 1, 1793, Madame Richard called her 
servant Rosalie, telling her the Queen was coming, 
and that they must both sit up to wait for her. 
Meanwhile a cell, underground, like a cellar, but 
comparatively large, was prepared to receive her. 
A folding-bed made up of two mattresses on a 
canvas frame, with a bolster and a thin covering, 
was prepared for her use ; but Madame Richard did 
her best to make it endurable, by adding delicately 
fine sheets, and a pillow. The furniture was com- 
pleted by a table, with what was absolutely neces- 
sary for her ablutions, and two straw chairs ! The 



304 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

Queen of France, for whom such an abode had been 
prepared, arrived at three o'clock in the morning in 
a hackney-coach, and came into the prison with her 
usual majestic mien, surrounded by numerous gen- 
darmes. She followed a dark passage, lighted by 
miserable lamps night and day, till she reached a 
low door ; and as she passed through, her head, which 
had not been sufficiently bowed, struck against it. 
One of those who followed her asked if she was hurt. 
" Oh, no," she replied ; " nothing can hurt me now." 

When all formalities had been performed she was 
left alone with the jailer's wife and Rosalie. She 
looked around her with an expression of astonish- 
ment as for the first time, she saw what a prison 
could be ; at the Temple she was provided with decent 
furniture and was given necessaries. But now! Sie 
was silent, however, although she looked earnestly at 
Madame Richard and at her servant, as if trying to 
guess what she could expect from them. "Without 
speaking, she stepped on a stool, which Rosalie had 
brought, in the hope of adding something to her de- 
ficient comfort, and fastened her watch to a nail in 
the wall. She then began to undress quietly. 

Rosalie, who was shy and frightened in the pres- 
ence of fallen majesty, now came forward respectfi.lly 
to offer her assistance. "I thank you, my good 
girl," said the Queen kindly; "since I have had no 
one to attend me, I have learned to wait upon 
myself." 

The dawn was just beginning to appear ; Madame 




MARIE-ANTOINETTE AND HER CHILDREN. 



FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLEMENT 4 CO., N. Y., OF A PAINTING BY MME. VIGEE LEBRUN, 
IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. 



HEE CELL 305 

Richard took away the candles, and, followed by 
Bosalie, left the Queen alone. 

The next day two gendarmes were placed in the 
cell, and remained there permanently, never leaving 
the unfortunate Queen any privacy. By the care of 
Madame Richard, a screen was put up before her bed 
and was her only protection against their incessant 
watchfulness. They drank, smoked, played cards, 
quarreled, and swore in her presence ; the smoke 
was particularly disagreeable to her, and affected her 
eyes, besides causing headaches. As she had brought 
nothing with her from the Temple, she begged to be 
allowed the use of the linen and other requisites 
which she had left there. After some delay, a par- 
cel was brought, containing a few articles care- 
fully folded and put together. As she looked at 
each, the Queen's eyes filled with tears, and turning 
to Madame Richard, she said mournfully : "In the 
care with which all this has been chosen and pre- 
pared, I recognize the hand of my poor sister Elisa- 
beth." After receiving this parcel of necessaries, the 
Queen wished to put them away but had no means 
of doing so in her cell. She begged Madame Rich- 
ard to lend her a box of some kind, but the jailer's 
wife dared not procure one for her. At last, Rosalie 
offered a bandbox of her own, which the Queen ac- 
cepted with thankfulness. Poor Rosalie also lent 
her a mirror of the humblest kind, which she had 
bought at a trifling cost for her own use — a small 
glass in a painted tin frame, which was received as a 



306 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

boon by the royal lady, whose majestic beauty had 
been reflected in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles ! 

Two or three days after the transfer of Marie- 
Antoinette to the Conciergerie, Madame Eichard 
came into the cell, followed by her youngest child, a 
pretty blue-eyed boy with curls of fair hair. The 
poor Queen ran up to him, caught him in her arms, 
and kissed him passionately, weeping bitterly as she 
did so, and saying that he reminded her of the Dau- 
phin. She was so much affected by this incident 
that the kindly wife of the jailer never brought the 
child again to the Queen's cell. 



CHAPTEE XXII 

Gentleness and patience of the Queen — Care of Rosalie — En- 
forced idleness — Her watch and diamond rings taken from 
her — A fatal flower — A pricked paper — Arrest of the jailer 
and his family — The Queen transferred to another cell — A 
new jailer — The Queen brought to trial — Attempt to obtain 
scandalous testimony from her own children — Her sentence 
unexpected by her — Her letter to Madame Elisabeth — Eosalie 
— Ministrations of a constitutional priest refused — "Errors, 
but not crimes." 



ALL the narratives of those who came near to 
. Marie- Antoinette in her days of misfortune are 
unanimous in their account of her gentleness and 
patience, and her quick feeling of gratitude for any 
kindness or attention shown to her. She never 
complained, says Rosalie, and cared only for cleanli- 
ness around her. She was particular in this respect ; 
but as Eosalie tried to satisfy her, she received the 
pewter spoons and forks with a grateful smile, be- 
cause they were always bright and clean. Her din- 
ner was nicely served, with clean table-linen, and 
was carefully cooked by Eosalie. She had daily the 
soup, — so inevitable at a French table, — a dish of 
meat (alternately poultry and a joint), vegetables, 
which she seemed to like better than meat, and fruit. 
As usual, she drank only water, but the kind jailers 



308 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

managed to procure the Ville d'Avray water to 
which she was accustomed. Rosahe admired the 
neat adroitness with which she carved her food, and 
still more her beautiful hands, so white and so 
delicately formed. She wore at first diamond rings, 
and in the long hours of enforced idleness which 
were so painful to her she sat in deep thought, 
playing unconsciously with these rings, which were 
taken from her by the commissaries who frequently 
visited the prison, and who probably appropriated 
them to their own use ; for they are not mentioned 
in any list of confiscated articles. They also took 
her watch, which was particularly dear to her ; for 
she had brought it from Vienna when, as a girl of 
fourteen, she had come to France to meet such an 
unexpected fate. She made no complaint, but shed 
tears when these last treasures were taken from her. 

The privation of occupation was particularly pain- 
ful to one whose time had been principally employed 
in needlework since her misfortunes had obliged her 
to live in retirement. Even knitting-needles were 
refused ! 

The women employed in the prison were obliged 
to mend her clothes incessantly, for they became 
injured, and in a manner rotted, by the excessive 
damp of her cell, which was far below the level of 
the neighboring Seine. Her black prunella shoes 
were covered with mold, although Rosalie cleaned 
them regularly ! The Queen wore alternately her 
black widow's garb and a white morning dress. She 



ENFORCED IDLENESS 309 

was SO weary of inaction that she pulled threads 
from the canvas on which the paper covering the 
walls of her cell was pasted, and plaited these 
threads into a sort of flat braid, with the help of 
pins fastened to her knee! Sometimes, when the 
guards were playing at cards, she stood by and 
watched them. Marie- Antoinette daily read a de- 
votional book that was in her possession, and was 
engaged in prayer for a considerable portion of the 
day. She sought relaxation by reading the travels 
of Captain Cook, lent to her by the jailer, in which 
she was interested, saying that she liked to read 
" dreadful adventures." Poor Queen ! Could any be 
worse than her own ! No candle was given her when 
night came, and Rosalie tried to do what was neces- 
sary to prepare for the night in as dilatory a man- 
ner as she could, that the Queen might share the 
light which she brought with her for as long a time 
as was possible. She went to bed by the dim light 
of a lamp in the courtyard, on which the high win- 
dow of her cell opened and allowed a glimmer to 
reach her. 

But painful as was her condition, it was about to 
become worse still, in consequence, alas! of the 
royalist attempts to save her, which had no result 
save exasperating her enemies and increasing her 
sufferings. The Chevalier de Rougeville,^ a devoted 
royalist, succeeded in gaining admission to the 

1 Called the "Chevalier de Maison Rouge " in the well-known novel 
of Dumas. 

20* 



310 THE STORY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

Queen's cell in disguise with a plan of flight. Un- 
happily, she was not prepared to see him, and started 
in a manner which did not escape the observation of 
those around her. As he stood near her, he dropped 
a carnation on the floor at her feet. This she took 
up when she thought that she had found a suitable 
opportunity; it contained a bit of thin paper with 
a few words of apparently little importance, but 
ending more significantly : " I will come on Friday." 
She tried to prick with a pin a sort of answer 
to this communication; but the guards, who had 
watched her, took the paper,^ and reported the 
whole incident. The jailer and his wife, with their 
daughter, were immediately arrested and sent to the 
Madelonnettes prison ; another jailer was appointed, 
whose wife, happily for Marie-Antoinette, retained 
the servant Rosalie as an assistant. The Queen was 
then (September 11), transferred to another cell 
where she remained till the day of her execution 
(October 16). The new jailer, a man named Bault, 
although harsh and rough in manner and strict in 
supervision, was not really unkind ; but he was 
extremely afraid of what might be the consequence 
of any indulgence shown to the prisoner, although 
disposed to do what he could to alleviate her suffer- 
ings without injuring himself. The cell allotted to 
the Queen had still more the characteristics of a 
dungeon than her first prison. The walls were ex- 
tremely thick, but so damp that the wet drops 

1 The pricked paper still exists among the State Papers. 



A NEW JAILEE 311 

trickled down upon her bed. Bault nailed up a 
piece of carpet as a protection, saying gruffly to 
those who objected that he wished to prevent the 
prisoner from hearing what took place outside. At 
the same time he declared that, being responsible 
for the person of his prisoner, no one should go into 
her celP without his leave. The two guards were 
thus obliged to remain in the adjoining cell, Bault 
retaining the key of the intervening door. This 
delivered the Queen from the continual presence of 
the guards, but limited the attentions shown to her 
by Rosalie, who could not come in without the 
jailer. 

Before the fatal conspiracy of the carnation the 
Queen had seemed hopeful of be^ng soon claimed 
by her family in Austria, and Rosalie was told that 
she should go with her, the Queen wishing to retain 
her services. But since her transfer to the new cell 
she seemed anxious, and repeatedly paced to and fro, 
apparently deep in thought. In fact, the fate that 
awaited her, but which even now she did not fully 
anticipate, was only hastened by the unfortunate 
and useless attempts to effect her deliverance. 

On October 3, 1793, the Convention issued a decree 
ordering judgment to be passed on the "Widow 
Capet." Then began the odious attempt to gather 
testimony against her from her own children! On 

1 The Queen's cell is still to be seen at the Conciergerie. It is nar- 
row, with thick walls and a small window, the top of which is on a 
level with the courtyard. The floor is paved with bricks, put up edge- 
wise. 



312 THE STOKY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

the Gtli of October, two commissaries, Pache and 
Chaumette, came to examine the unfortunate Dau- 
phin. The child had been beaten and ill-used " be- 
yond what could be imagined," as his sister, Madame 
Royale, testifies ; he was also perpetually threatened 
with the guillotine, which frightened him to such a 
degree that he fainted several times through excess 
of terror. Added to all this, he was forced to drink 
raw spirits, which threw him into a stupefied state ! 
Cowed with terror, and too young to understand the 
meaning of the questions addressed to him concern- 
ing his mother, he answered as he saw that he was 
required to do. It must not be forgotten that the 
unhappy child was only eight years old, and that he 
had already witnessed scenes of horror which had 
only too much enlightened him as to what he might 
expect. 

On the 7th of October the commissaries, with 
several guards, went up to the rooms occupied by 
Madame Elisabeth and her niece, whom they ordered 
to follow them. For the first time Madame Elisabeth 
was pale and trembling; but she was not allowed 
to accompany the young girl, who went away with 
their persecutors. In her simple narrative Madame 
Eoyale says : "It was the first time that I had ever 
been alone with men. I did not know what they 
intended to do with me, but I prayed inwardly to 
God for protection." 

When she saw her brother, who was to be examined 
again in her presence, she ran to embrace him, but 



THE QUEEN BROUaHT TO TRIAL 313 

he was taken from her, and she was examined alone 
in the first instance. " Chaumette then questioned 
me on many wicked things of which they accused 
my mother and my aunt. I was thunderstruck at 
such horrors, and although I was so frightened, I 
could not help saying that these suppositions were 
infamous. Notwithstanding my tears, they persist- 
ently questioned me for a long time. There were 
things that I did not understand, but what I could 
understand was so dreadful that I cried through in- 
dignation." The Dauphin was then recalled, and the 
brother and sister were examined face to face; but 
the poor child was naturally more helpless than even 
the young and innocent Madame Royale. The ordeal 
lasted three hours before the young Princess was 
taken back to her aunt, who was then summoned in 
her turn, Madame Elisabeth answered with con- 
temptuous energy and spirit, and was detained only 
an hour instead of three. " The deputies saw that 
they could not frighten her as they hoped to do in 
my case, but the life that I had led for the last four 
years, and the example of my parents, had given me 
strength of mind." 

Five days later the Queen was summoned in her 
turn for examination previous to her trial. She 
gave her name as " Marie- Antoinette of Lorraine 
and Austria, aged about thirty-eight years, widow of 
the King of France." 

She answered clearly and adroitly all the questions 
put to her, and was then informed that Tronson 



314 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

Ducoudray, a barrister of reputation, and Chauveau- 
Lagarde, had been officially appointed as counsel 
for the defense. But Chauveau-Lagarde, who at 
once went to consult with the Queen, found that the 
trial was to commence the next day (October 15) 
and vainly asked for a delay of three days (certainly 
not too much ! ) to prepare his defense and examine 
the indictment. The refusal of the government 
proved only too clearly that no justice could be ex- 
pected, and that the Queen's fate was sealed before- 
hand. 

On the following day (October 15) the proceedings 
began before the Revolutionary Court or Tribunal, 
which then held its sittings in the large halP of the 
prison. The Queen was summoned at eight o'clock 
in the morning, and, according to the testimony 
of Rosalie, without having taken any nourishment. 
She wore her widow's dress and cap, over which was 
fastened a black crape scarf. Her hair was simply 
but neatly arranged, rather high on her forehead ; it 
was white on the temples, but not perceptibly gray 
elsewhere. She looked pale and thin, but the ma- 
jestic lines of her queen-like face remained, and she 
retained the grace and dignity of carriage which 
had always been so remarkable. She walked firmly 
to her seat — an arm-chair which, with unusual 
courtesy, had been provided for her use. She 
looked steadily at her judges, and as the indict- 
ment with its multiplied insults was read, as she 

1 Now destroyed. 



THE QUEEN BROUGHT TO TRIAL 315 

heard herself compared to Fredegonde, Messalina, 
and all the similar monsters known to history, she 
drew up her still proud head, and played indiffer- 
ently on the arm of the chair with her fingers, " as 
if on a pianoforte," says one of the spectators. 
When questioned, she answered clearly and steadily, 
often showing considerable acuteness in her replies 
to treacherous questions, where the least inadver- 
tence might have caused serious consequences. To 
one accusation — that concerning the Dauphin's rev- 
elations — she made no reply. This was brought 
forward as a sort of admission of guilt. She then 
spoke, exclaiming in vibrating tones which went 
home to all around her : " I did not answer, because 
nature itself recoils from such an accusation ad- 
dressed to a mother ! I appeal to all those who 
may be here ! " 

There were murmurs in the crowd — a momentary 
reaction in her favor, which alarmed those who had 
sworn that she should die. Witnesses were sum- 
moned, and the Queen was cross-examined on their 
testimony, often of the most absurd kind. 

At four o'clock an interval of rest was granted, 
and the Queen, who was utterly exhausted, was al- 
lowed to leave her seat. An officer who saw that 
she was nearly fainting gave her a glass of water 
and assisted her to leave the court ; it will scarcely 
be believed that this act of common humanity caused 
his arrest ! The jailer Bault then desired Eosalie to 
take some soup to the Queen ; but the poor girl was 



316 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

not allowed to give it herself, the bowl being taken 
from her, to her great distress, merely to satisfy the 
curiosity of an abandoned woman who wished for 
an opportunity of seeing the Queen to her satisfac- 
tion ! 

At five o'clock p. m. the proceedings were resumed, 
and lasted till four o'clock on the following morning 
(the 16th of October), when the sentence was given 
out by which " Marie- Antoinette of Austria, widow 
of Louis Capet," was condemned to the penalty of 
death, which penalty was to be carried out within 
twenty-four hours. Chauveau-Lagarde here states 
that the Queen had not even then believed in the 
possibility of such a sentence ; that the worst she an- 
ticipated was the separation from' her children which 
would be the consequence of perpetual banishment 
from France. 

Both of the Queen's advocates were put under 
arrest before she left the court, and were conse- 
quently unable to hear from herself what she felt ; 
but they. saw that she had received an unexpected 
shock, and for a moment seemed thunderstruck. 
She, however, quickly recovered her presence of mind 
and her fortitude. As she reached the railing which 
separated her from the spectators assembled in the 
court, she raised her head, and walked out with a 
firm step. 

"When she reached her cell she asked immediately 
for writing materials, without taking rest, although 
the night was nearly spent, and her trial had lasted 



HEE LETTER TO MADAME ELISABETH 317 

for twenty hours, with no food but the bowl of soup 
taken on the preceding evening. The energy of 
mind which could command such physical exhaus- 
tion is truly wonderful. 

She sat down, and by the feeble light of two tallow 
candles wrote to Madame Elisabeth a letter dated 
the 16th of October, half-past four o'clock in the 
morning. This letter, which was not given to Ma- 
dame Elisabeth, has no signature ; but it is neverthe- 
less considered authentic, and is countersigned by 
several well-known revolutionists. It is preserved 
among the State Papers. The Queen writes most 
affectionately to Madame Elisabeth, thanking her for 
the sacrifices she has made for all ; while assuring her 
of her own calmness in the presence of approaching 
death, she sends messages to her children, and, like 
the King, forbids them ever to seek revenge for her 
death. 

She then alludes to the circumstance "which 
has been so painful to her heart" — the grief which 
her son must have caused Madame Elisabeth. She 
entreats her to remember his age, and to forgive him, 
reminding her how easy it is to make a child say 
what is suggested to him, and especially what he 
does not understand. The Queen then makes her 
profession of faith as a firm Catholic, expresses hope 
in the mercy of Grod, and bids an affectionate fare- 
well to all; adding that if one of the schismatic 
priests who had taken the constitutional oath should 
be brought to her, she would refuse his ministry. 



318 THE STORY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

The Queen intrusted the letter to the jailer Bault, 
but he dared not attempt to send it to Madame 
Elisabeth, and gave it into the hands of Fouquier- 
Tinville, the public prosecutor, where it remained. 

The Queen, after this last effort, lay down on her 
bed, where Rosalie found her when the jailer sent to 
offer her nourishment. The two candles had burned 
low in the cell, and by their dim light Eosalie saw an 
officer half asleep in a chair, and the Queen, in her 
long black dress, lying on the bed weeping bitterly. 

Rosalie, in deep distress herself, asked in a low 
voice if she would take anything. 

The Queen, still weeping, replied : " Oh, my good 
girl, all is over for me now ! " 

" Madame," then said Rosalie, in tones of entreaty, 
"I have some good soup ready. You have taken 
nothing to-day, and you had next to nothing yester- 
day. You require support ; pray let me bring you 
some soup." 

" No, no ; I thank you, but I want nothing." 

The girl turned away ; the Queen, seeing that she 
was in tears, feared to have grieved her, and with 
the characteristic kindness which she retained to 
the last, called her back. " Well, well, Rosalie, you 
may bring me your soup." 

Rosalie hastened to fetch it, and the Queen sat up 
on her bed to try to take it, but could not swallow 
more than two or three spoonfuls. She then desired 
Rosalie to return about the break of day to help her 
to dress. 



"ERRORS, BUT NOT CRIMES" 319 

Meanwhile a " constitutional priest," ^ as they were 
called, came to offer the Queen his spiritual aid, 
which she, refused. He asked if he should accom- 
pany her to the place of execution. She replied with 
indifference : " As you please." He then said : "Your 
death will expiate — " " Yes, monsieur," she quickly 
rejoined, ^^ errors, but not crimes.''^ 

1 A priest wh.0 had taken the forbidden oath, and was consequently 
under interdict from the Church. 



CHAPTER XXm 

The last insults — Dress of the Queen when going to the scaffold — 
The sentence read to her — The executioner ties her hands 
and cuts off her hair — The cart — The last progress through 
the streets — An American witness — The Tuileries — Scene 
on the scaffold — The last look of Marie- Antoinette. 



AT the appointed hour Rosalie came to assist her in 
jLX changing her clothes ; for she wished to appear 
before the people in as proper attire as was within 
her power. Rosalie had brought a change of linen, 
for which the Queen had asked, and unfolded it in 
readiness as the Queen stooped down behind her 
bed, desiring Rosalie to stand before her as she un- 
fastened her gown to draw it down. Immediately 
the officer on guard came up to the bed, and leaning 
his elbow on the pillow, looked over to have a better 
view, staring insolently at the Queen, who blushed 
deeply, and hastily drew her large muslin kerchief 
over her shoulders, as, clasping her hands, she said 
imploringly : " I entreat you, monsieur, in the name 
of decency, to allow me to change my linen without 
a witness." "I cannot allow it," said the man 
roughly ; " my orders are to keep eyes upon you 
constantly, day and night." The Queen sighed 
deeply, and then quietly knelt down behind Rosalie, 

320 




MARIE-ANTOINETTE. 



FROM A PHOTOGRAPH DY BRAUN, CLEMENT & CO., N. Y., OF THE PAINTING BY MME. VIGEE LEBRUN, 
IN MUSEUM OF VERSAILLES. 



THE SENTENCE EEAD TO HEE 321 

ivho screened her as best she could, while the unfor- 
tunate prisoner, with every care and precaution, 
changed her clothes. She had received orders not 
to wear her widow's mourning, "lest the people 
should insult her in consequence " ; but, rather, lest 
she should awaken too much commiseration, as 
every one in the prison concluded. The Queen made 
no remark, and put on the white dress which she 
always wore in the morning over a black skirt. She 
wore a plain lawn cap, without the widow's scarf of 
crape, and fastened black ribbons to her wrists, 
after having crossed her large white muslin kerchief 
over her dress. She was now ready for whatever 
might be ordered, and knelt down in prayer. Eosalie 
was not allowed to remain, and retired, sobbing as if 
her heart would break. 

At ten o'clock the judges came into the cell, where 
another officer had relieved guard. The Queen 
rose from her knees to receive the officials, who told 
her that they came to read to her the sentence. 
" This is quite useless," said the Queen, in a raised 
voice ; " I know the sentence only too well." " That 
does not matter," answered one of those present; 
" you must hear it again." The Queen made no re- 
ply, and the sentence was read to her. As this ended 
the chief executioner — Henri Sanson, a young man 
of gigantic height — came in carrying a rope. He 
went up to the Queen, saying: "Hold out your 
hands." 

She drew back, seeming greatly agitated. "Are 



322 THE STORY OP MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

you going to tie my hands ? They were not tied in 
the case of Louis XVI till he reached the scaffold." 

The judges said to the executioner: "Do your 
duty." 

" Oh, mon Dieu ! " cried the Queen. 

The executioner then seized the beautiful, deli- 
cate hands and tied them with a rope^ behind her 
back. The Queen sighed deeply and looked up to 
heaven; but although tears were ready to flow, she 
restrained them. When her hands were thus firmly 
bound, the executioner took off her cap and cut off 
her hair. As she felt the touch of the scissors on 
her neck she started and turned hastily, evidently 
supposing that she was about to be murdered in 
the cell; she then saw the executioner folding up 
her hair, which he put in his pocket. ^ Before she 
left the cell she said anxiously to the officer now on 
guard: "Do you think that they will let me reach 
the place of execution without tearing me to pieces ? " 

He assured her that she had nothing to fear from 
the mob, but she seemed anxious as she followed the 
officials who led her to her doom, scarcely hoping 
even for the dreadful security of a guarded scaffold ! 
When she saw the cart awaiting her she again started, 
and seemed to receive a fresh shock; she had sup- 
posed that, like the King, she would have the protec- 
tion of a closed coach. The cart was of a kind seen 
only in remote country parts at the present day, and 

1 '' Too tightly," says an eye-witness. 
2 It was burned, after tlie execution, in the entrance-hall of the prison. 



THE LAST PROGEESS THROUGH THE STREETS 323 

made of four separate sides rudely tied together, the 
back part being let down for ingress, with a step- 
ladder attached. A plank put across the cart served 
as a seat. The Queen ascended the steps firmly, and 
prepared to sit facing the horse ; but she was imme- 
diately told that she must sit backward, looking to- 
ward the spectators. She turned and took her seat 
with perfect calmness and a grave, resolute look, 
gazing straight before her, pale, with red, even blood- 
shot eyes, but carrying her head high, as was her 
wont. The executioner and his assistant stood be- 
hind her, leaning against the sides of the cart. The 
priest took his place next to her, but she turned away 
and seemed determined not to speak to him, though 
he held up a crucifix before her from time to time. 
She seemed to suffer pain from the ropes round her 
hands, on which he pressed to relieve the tension ; 
the ends were held by the executioner, pulling the 
arms backward. The cart went on slowly, while an 
immense crowd ^ followed in dead silence till they 
reached the Rue St. Honore. There they found hos- 
tile elements, especially the abandoned women who in 
Paris always play such a prominent part in all popu- 
lar disturbances. Here there was such a burst of in- 
sult and execration that the unfortunate Queen might 
well dread the possibility of falling into such hands. 
But the cart turned into the Rue Royale, and 
reached the Place de la Revolution, where the scaffold 

lA young American, Daniel Strobel of Charleston, grandfather to 
the writer of these pages, was in the crowd before the Conciergerie 
prison when the Queen came out, and followed closely to the last. 



324 THE STOEY OF MAKIE-ANTOINETTE 

was erected. As the Queen passed before the Tui- 
leries she turned with an earnest, lingering look. 

The scaffold was erected facing the garden of the 
Tuileries, before a statue of Liberty, on the spot 
where the Obelisk now-^tands, and not where the 
King's scaffold had stood, which was on the oppo- 
site side, but more to the left of the Place, facing 
the Champs-Elysees. The priest attempted to assist 
her in alighting, but notwithstanding the increased 
difficulty consequent on her tied hands, she tm-ned 
from him and stepped down firmly, with apparent 
ease, as quickly as she could, seeming desirous to 
hasten the end as far as possible. The executioner 
offered her his aid in ascending the scaffold, but she 
went up alone and quickly, immediately going to 
the plank on which she was to be bound. In doing 
so she trod on the foot of the executioner, who made 
a motion as of pain. With the kind courtesy which 
characterized her even in this last hour, she quickly 
uttered: "Pardon, monsieur!" in a tone of regret 
and apology. The executioner and his assistant 
then fastened her to the plank and tore off her mus- 
lin kerchief, lest it should impede the action of the 
knife. The last motion of Marie-Antoinette was 
an involuntary attempt to bring forward her tied 
hands as a screen for her uncovered shoulders. 

The executioner held up the head to the popu- 
lace.^ To the deep awe of the spectators, the face 

1 Daniel Strobel always expressed his conviction that, for a short 
space of time at least, she was perfectly conscious, as if still aUve. 



THE LAST LOOK OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 325 

of Marie-Antoinette expressed perfect conscious- 
ness, and the eyes looked on the crowd ! The ex- 
pression was that of intense astonishment, as of 
some wonderful vision revealed. 

All was over; the eventful life was ended. The 
follies of early youth, the joys of the past, the dread- 
ful sorrows of the present time, the heroic final atone- 
ment for what had been "errors, but not crimes" — all 
was over. All had vanished like a dream, save the 
eternal reward in store for the faith and trust of the 
Christian — more valuable now than the majesty of 
the Queen. 

Bequiescat in pace ! 



CHAPTER XXIV 

Sequel — The trial of Madame Elisabeth — Her fortitude at the 
scaffold — The cruelty practised on the Dauphin — His horri- 
ble isolation — The pity that was shown too late — ■ His last 
words of his mother — Strength of character shown by the 
surviving princess, Madame Royale — Sent to Austria in 1795 
— Married to her cousin. 



4FTEE the removal of the Queen to the Con- 
1\ ciergerie, the young Madame Royale remained 
with her devoted aunt, Madame Elisabeth, who, 
foreseeing that they would not long be left together, 
strove in every way to prepare the young girl for the 
life in store for her. She taught her to require no at- 
tendance, and regulated her occupations, settling fixed 
hours for household work, prayer, reading, needle- 
work, and study. The princesses were now entirely 
neglected; their food was of the coarsest sort, and 
they had no assistance of any kind. In vain they 
entreated for information as to the fate of the Queen. 
They were kept in complete ignorance of what had 
befallen her. 

On May 9, 1794, Madame EHsabeth was taken 
from the Temple prison to the Conciergerie, where, 
after a short examination, she was sentenced to 
death. The Princess anxiously inquired for the 



MADAME ELISABETH'S FORTITUDE AT THE SCAFFOLD 327 

Queen, but received only evasive replies, until the 
next morning, when, on being led to the fatal cart, 
she met a group of twenty-three prisoners about to 
share her fate. All belonged to the highest aris- 
tocracy, and were consequently well known to 
Madame Elisabeth. The greater number were ladies. 
One of these informed the Princess of the fate of the 
Queen. All went together in the same cart; but 
Madame Elisabeth was the last on the list, and was 
consequently required to witness twenty-three exe- 
cutions before her own death ! To the last she re- 
mained calm and resolute, encouraging those around 
her. As the names were called, each prisoner rose 
and bowed low to Madame Elisabeth, who em- 
braced all the ladies as, in turn, they passed before 
her. 

When this scene of horror had been repeated 
twenty-three times, "Elisabeth Capet" was called, 
and with a firm step the daughter of kings walked 
to the fatal plank, which reeked with the blood of 
faithful subjects. 

The knife fell ; the pure and noble life was ended. 
Once more the royal blood of France flowed on a 
scaffold ! 

THE DAUPHIN 

The fate of the poor child who was the nominal 
heir to the crown of France was the worst among all 
the victims who suffered during that frightful social 
convulsion. No slave, no child of fiction or reality. 



328 THE STOEY OF MAEEE-ANTOINETTE 

ever had a more pathetic history, or one more har- 
rowing in its details. 

The cobbler Simon treated the Dauphin with 
more cruelty than would be accepted as possible 
in the case of any tyrant of fiction. Blows, kicks, 
missiles hurled at his head, insults of all kinds, 
oaths, were as the daily bread of the poor child so 
tenderly nurtured in the palace of his fathers! 
"Capet" was the usual appellation adopted; but 
others more abusive, such as " Louveteau," ^ were 
commonly showered upon him. Simon was fre- 
quently intoxicated, and when in this state the ill- 
usage of the child was still more horrible; so that 
he would probably have lost his life through the 
insane violence of this tyrant, if the woman Simon 
had not protected her charge in some degree. 

The poor little fellow, partly in gratitude for her 
interference, partly in the hope of propitiation, 
showed her every attention in his power, with the 
graceful courtesy which had been so carefully taught 
to him by his royal mother. The woman Simon her- 
self bore witness to this, saying that he was " a most 
amiable child" who tried his best to please her. 
" He would run," she says, " to clean and UacJc my 
shoes, and every morning he brought my foot-warmer 
to my bedside before I got up ! " 

Simon made him do the work of a servant, or 
rather of a slave ; the smallest mistake, the slight- 
est defect in the performance of what was required 

1 Wolf -pup. 



HOERIBLE ISOLATION OP THE DAUPHIN 329 

of Mm, was visited on the child by barbarous ill-, 
usage. 

And yet he was to be reduced to a still worse con- 
dition. After some time Simon and his wife were 
removed from the prison. The child of eight years 
was then shut up alone in a ceU with a grated, pad- 
locked window which could not be opened to renew 
the air ! 

He remained there for fifteen months in solitary 
confinement, his food being pushed through a wicket 
with a pitcher of water. No one entered the cell, 
which was never aired or cleaned, and from which 
nothing was removed. His linen and sheets were 
never changed during the whole of this time, nor 
was his person cared for in any manner ! Soon the 
cell was overrun with rats and mice, while he became 
a prey to the most loathsome insects, and in conse- 
quence was covered with sores. The poor child fell 
into a state of torpor, and lay on his pallet without 
moving, till he was called to the wicket by the jailers, 
who threw him his wretched food as to a dog, with 
abusive words and oaths. He was also roughly 
called up at night, to show himself at the wicket; 
but no one ever went into the den. 

During the reaction which followed the fall of 
Robespierre, the new government sent commissaries 
who had the feelings of decent humanity, and who 
entered the cell of "le petit Capet," where the 
atmosphere was unbearable. When they saw the 
condition of the wretched child, their feelings of 



330 THE STOEY OF MAEIE-ANTOINETTE 

indignation, and even horror, were forcibly ex- 
pressed. The child was questioned, but he would 
not answer. One idea seemed alone to survive in 
his dormant intellect — that he had been induced 
to say something which had injured his mother. 
This he probably had gathered from the language 
of Simon, and thenceforward he would not speak; 
blows could not conquer his resolution. 

The commissaries drew up a report of the condi- 
tion in which they had found the little prisoner, 
and he was promptly given into the hands of kind 
keepers, by whom he was removed to a large, airy, 
and cheerful room, with a good bed and clean linen ; 
he was carefully tended, and was given new clothes. 
A physician was summoned, but all was too late. 
The bright and amiable little Dauphin was now de- 
formed, and almost, if not entirely, an idiot ! Under 
the influence of kind treatment his intellect seemed 
in some measure to revive; but all was limited to 
the one thought — his mother. The jailer took him 
to the top of the tower, where she had watched so 
anxiously to see him go by. The poor child, who 
still refused to speak, bent down and silently 
gathered a few wild flowers — mere weeds which 
grew between the stones ! He made them into a 
little posy, which he dropped before the door of 
the room that had been hers ! 

On another occasion he watched the kind face of 
his jailer, and then, looking back anxiously, crept to 
the door. The jailer drew him away gently. 



THE DAUPHIN'S LAST WORDS OF HIS MOTHER 331 

"Oh!" he cried, "let me see her! Once — only 
once!" 

" My poor child, it cannot be ! " said the jailer, 
much moved. 

The child threw himself on his bed, and turned to 
the wall; from that day his physical condition be- 
came rapidly worse. Occasionally he murmured: 
" Mama is in the other tower ! I am all alone ! " 

Soon it was evident that the end was at hand. 
On the last day of his life the child said suddenly to 
his keeper: 

" Do you hear the beautiful music ? " 

" What music. Monsieur f " ^ 

"Such beautiful music! Mama is singing! Oh, 
I hope that my sister hears the music ! She will be 
so pleased ! " 

The jailer raised the child in his arms, and soon 
he had found his mother. 

He was then ten years old. He died on the 8th 
of June, 1795. 



MADAME EOYALE 

From the 1st of August, 1793, when the Queen 
was taken to the Conciergerie, till the 9th of May, 
1794, Madame Elisabeth, as I have before said, con- 
tinued her mission of " guardian angel " to the young 
Princess, whose wonderful fortitude and unvarying 
prudence of conduct when she remained alone suf- 

1 He was called " Monsieur" at this improved period. 



332 THE STOEY OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE 

ficiently proved to all the world how carefully she 
had been prepared for any event. 

On the fatal 9th of May her last friend and sup- 
port was taken from her, and the girl of fifteen was 
left alone, surrounded by brutal men, without a 
woman near her, without aid or assistance of any 
kind. 

She scrupulously followed the advice and example 
of the admirable Elisabeth, and regulated her time 
according to her instructions, keeping her room 
carefully clean and neat by her own exertions, 
throwing water on the floor to refresh the air, and 
punctually walking up and down the room for an 
hour daily, at a quick pace, in order to supplement 
deficient exercise. 

She mended her clothes, and even washed them 
when necessary cleanliness was deficient. As 
she says, with uncomplaining simplicity, she was 
given soap and water, and could keep everything 
clean ! 

Madame Royale was thus retained in solitary con- 
finement for fifteen months — a penalty which strong 
men find unendurable ! But she possessed the peace 
of a pure conscience, and of the holy meditations 
taught to her by her saintly guide. The only hu- 
man beings with whom she was now in contact were 
the jailers and the municipal guards. She always 
received them in grave silence, and when questioned 
answered in as few words as possible, never yielding 
to any attempt at conversation. 



MADAME ROYALE 333 

Madame Elisabeth had earnestly exhorted her 
young niece to manage so as never to be in bed 
when the visits of inspection were paid; and al- 
though these visits were of daily occurrence, and 
took place at all hours of the night, the guards al- 
ways found her dressed and seated by the side of 
her bed. She retired to rest only when the visit 
was over. 

And thus she remained, alone, without advice, 
sympathy, or comfort. After the death of her un- 
fortunate brother, more humane inspectors inter- 
fered to improve her position. She was given 
proper clothing; for notwithstanding her care, her 
clothes could no longer be mended. But the most 
valuable of the favors now granted to her was the 
society of a lady named Madame de Chantereine, 
who was appointed to fill the post of governess- 
companion to the unfortunate royal prisoner, and 
who seems to have accomplished her task in a satis- 
factory manner, for the young Princess became 
much attached to her. 

Madame de Tourzel also obtained admittance to 
the prison, and visited Madame Eoyale, with the 
dear Pauline of her childhood; the joy of meeting 
these friends, after the terrible isolation of her life, 
may be imagined. 

In December, 1795, the daughter of Marie-An- 
toinette was sent to her mother's country, in conse- 
quence of a treaty with Austria. She hastened to 
join her uncle, the Comte de Provence, now en- 



334 THE STORY OF MARIE- ANTOINETTE 

titled Louis XVIII, and was soon married to the 
Due d'Angouleme, son of the Comte d'Artois, after- 
ward Charles X. The Princess returned to France 
at the restoration of the Bourbons; but was again 
obliged to leave the country by the revolution of 
1830. 
She died at Frohsdorf on October 19, 1851. 






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